Love Can't Be Denied - Joshua Lieben
by sapphirexoxo1412
Summary: After the tragic yet epic fallout of Nerwan Kingdom, Crown Prince Joshua Lieben must deal with the aftermaths of his conquest - colossal public unrest and a missing, perhaps even dead Prince Leonardo. What better way to quench the discontent of the Nerwans than to marry their only remaining princess, Stephanie? However, there's more to the story than just a forced marriage...


**Love Can't Be Denied – A Joshua Lieben New Year's Special**

**Chapter I**

…

The sky had been crying, or would mourning be a more accurate description?

The transparent mediums from heaven to earth, the liquid, crepuscular crystals in their joined solitude splashed against the majestic pavement of Dres Van Manor, imprisoning its inhabitants from the mid-November air. There wasn't much sentient involved in their restrains; for rain in the kingdom of Dres Van was surely a rare phenomenon. The previous rainfall, as Prince Joshua recalled, was in early April – after the celestial tendrils made their last graceful descent, they retreated back into the clouds, concealing their existence from any observing eye. Taking in the scenery, he leaned across his office window, his fine-material shirt ruffled against the cold, trembling glass, the ephemeral sensation akin to an unseasonal hummingbird's wings.

Relishing in the grey skies, Joshua couldn't help but ponder over his landscape settings. He wasn't a stranger to cascading rain, but the existence of rain at such a peculiar time had managed to catch his attention. Dres Van, along with the Kingdoms Philip, Altaria, Charles formed a juxtaposed, elongated diamond above the equator, with Prince Joshua's nation bordering the warmest temperatures. Rain was seldom, if not impossible at this time of year, which was, after all, a faint justification of his confusion.

He had thought, just perhaps, that it had something to do with his recent conquering of the kingdom of Nerwan. It was almost as if the sky reflected the indignant roars of the people, the people who had their nationalities swiftly converted from under Prince Leonardo's wing to his own. The momentum of their anger had quaked colossal unease for the past several months, whereas the reconnaissance of their source of rebellion had proved very much unfruitful. He understood where they were coming from, but he also believed that with adequate persuasion, time was the only thing preventing them from complying to his orders completely. It wasn't confidence, no, it was no longer that, but years and years of military experience renowned of Dres Van. However, he couldn't help but wonder as he gazed into the veiling rain, perfumed with the just emerging vestiges of petrichor stemming from below.

Had sorrow prompted rain, or had rain lured sorrow?

He blinked. The wind had picked up, swirling the surging waters sideways in a synchronized dance of woe, their colorlessness merging into the grey afternoon clouds. The skyline appeared distant, distant to the extent of obscurity. His world, from that particular viewpoint appeared endless, as if he was situated at the very end of the globe, his only awareness of distance the checkered ground few stories beneath his feet. There was something moderately unsettling, almost sinister about the sight, something he couldn't immediately pinpoint until Jan's rhythmic, orderly footsteps sounded outside his door.

"Your Highness." Alike the skies, even Jan's typically consistent voice possessed a sort of dissonance, his every word weighed down by some intangible force. Turning his head, pale amethyst eyes implored deep violet for a scrutinizing moment before the prince replied, hoping to keep his tone as monotonous as possible:

"Yes?" Jan approached him, and mirroring his movements, Joshua hovered over to his grand mahogany desk, fingers tracing surreptitiously over its smooth polished surface. With practice, perhaps Joshua would be able to rid himself of the excessive action. Though, truth be told, a part of him, the childish and reverencing part of him warned him against it. It, after all marked an insignificant flaw in the prince's indifference, conferring upon him something that made him human instead of an anti-social alien.

Wood. He liked wood – its various shapes of brown and red, and if he's fortunate enough to stumble upon its rarest variant: shadow grey. His desk especially, it had this aura of rusted antiquity, of the richness of history devoid of the rancid smell of rotting vegetation. Its glossy surface accented its display of sophisticated beauty, while the elaborate patterns imbricated on the handles of its draws was absolutely stunning. It reminded him of his childhood, when his parents would send foreign gifts to the manor, hoping that those tokens of their longing would lessen his loneliness. He didn't particularly care for the sentient; however, among the presents was a petite, sculpted pavilion made of mahogany. At first, the item appeared incongruous – it defined explanation; for he could not immediately register why the king and queen had supplied him with such an odd toy. He had spent countless hours sitting at his desk, contemplating over the structure, until one day he realized he grew attached to it. It had woven its way furtively into his life, molded itself an indispensable corner of his heart.

Sometimes, he would briefly wonder his desk would look like, when personified into a living, breathing girl; however, whenever his thought trailed upon that curiosity, Prince Roberto's face would suddenly pop up into his head, shattering his wonderment with effortless ease.

It wasn't until the loud thump of his documents placed against his table did Joshua's head snap up, releasing him of his relapse. Expectedly, Jan's face contorted in worry, and Joshua knew exactly its underlying cause – the prince had been out of it lately. His disposition and mannerisms had taken on more surreal aura, as if adjourned between the realms of dreams and senseless reality, with no hope of recovering from his condition anytime soon. He should have smiled, smiled to relive his butler of anxiety, for that was what a benevolent master _would_ have done. Or at least, that was the belief that Joshua had always conformed to.

"What are all these?" Jan's face lit up at Joshua's question. He picked up the top piece of parchment and handed it to the prince, who received it with a dubious expression. It took not seconds of scanning the idle topic before he recognized what it was, the same dilemma since few days ago, few weeks ago; hell, the entire month had been replete with the same, dull presentation.

The Nerwan divisions were once again acting up, threatening a full-fledged rebellion that would destroy Dres Van's hard earned quiescence. Their anger was understandable, of course, but given the time, energy, not to mention ridiculous amounts of Cruz the royal family invested in calming their antics, one would expect that they'd at least show some degree of retraction, or maybe even gratitude. Their conditions under Prince Leonardo's regime was utterly despicable, in fact, it reminded Joshua faintly of a quote in the preface of the Dres Vanian National Concords:

_Dusk and Dawn, a ceaseless melange. _

How had all this happened? Directly after the civil war, Joshua had finally mustered the energy to take his maiden voyage into the borders of Nerwan. He had been aghast: Prince Leonardo anchored his country like a madman, dissembled the consignations of his citizens and completely vanished into nowhere. After days of endless searching, the Dres Vanian prince could only conclude that he escaped to a different region of the world, unbeknown to the rest of them his whereabouts. Thus, he tore down the royal emblem of the Nerwan landscape and replaced it with his own, eclipsing the eastern nation with the mightiest regime that Dres Van had ever seen.

At first, directly after his conquering, the Nerwan citizens were obedient, matriculating their daily duties with limited to nonexistent objections. They hustled day and night, as if ridden of both virtue and vice, but reduced to soulless entities that perpetuated earth without and scintillations of emotion. That wasn't the way Joshua wanted his people to live. Therefore, interjecting with a new statue, he fused the national budget with equalization payments, and in turned witnessed a sharp increase in individual well-being, especially in the Nerwan colonies. Now, for a kingdom as prosperous as Prince Keith Alford's Liberty, such a conversion would be rendered graceful and unproblematic, but for a parsimonious, not to mention recently victorious nation as Dres Van, the troubles that would arise were vast. After a sluggish, bittersweet struggle, _his people_ finally seemed to revive, little by little into their usual contented states.

…and yet here they are, as benefactors to the new setting aimlessly agitating its rulers. As time went on, they gradually increased in valor, their blind courage eventually accumulating into wide-scaled forest fires and rumbles against Joshua's own people. The Prince was offered no other choice but to send on the royal army in a desperate attempt to harmonize their antics, and thankfully, for the time being, they halted their revolts, permitting the kingdom a transitory moment of tranquility. Though, as history had on countless occasions ruthlessly proven, peace was but an idyllic, pastoral illusion, one quickly dismantled by the pettiest flames of unrest.

No wonder Prince Leonardo was such a savage; his reptilian roots were buried, ancient and potent in the tundrae of Nerwan Kingdom. To think that his people could engineer such strife even during his absence was a thought unbearable. Furrowing his brows, Prince Joshua was on the verge of pounding his fist on his desk; if it wasn't for that he knew mahogany, out of all woods dented the easiest, he probably would have.

"Dismiss these at once." He waved his hand towards Jan without looking at him. If this problem persisted, he would have to employ more vindictive means, including possible threats of banishment – but to where? Prince Leonardo was currently under ambiguous exile, his exact coordinates unknown, so basically, there was nothing stopping him from gathering his remaining followers and marching furiously within the Dres Vanian boundaries. The appearance of the prince would also spur the faith Joshua had so painfully obliterated over the past months. He required a method to smolder their rage, a means that would simultaneously secure his reputation and obstruct their tentative uprisings.

"Yes, Your Highness."

Jan, to Prince Joshua, also assumed this air of foreignism. No longer did his butler indulge in his courtship of finely pressed clothes and pristinely made cravats, but instead appeared more disgruntled, and definitely less comfortable in his own shoes. The flashes of doubt and surprise he'd exhibit were no longer discernable, instead, his features were clouded with the impression of malaise, as if he, just like the prince himself were immensely troubled by the happenings befalling their nation. Joshua couldn't help but admire his butler's loyalty, though, his cussedness neutralized admiration with bubbling annoyance.

He watched with a blatantly impassive expression as Jan balanced the thick stacks of parchment in his arms, his typically erected posture sustaining the pile of deadweight. Joshua could hear the rain, and suddenly, its symphony of tapping sounds became of the utmost vulgarity, as if acid dissolving the grounds beneath him, perhaps even the ceilings above. How long would it take for it to melt through the polished stone and drop upon his head, and how long would it take him to evacuate, and to where? Dres Van's rain was notorious for its slightly saturated acidity, and its intensity only aggravated as the years went on.

"Your highness." He raised his head, his perplexed mind masked by the insouciance of his immobile features. There was something of Jan's voice that depleted him of his thoughts – that short, sweet cavatina that radiated…hope. The first glimmers of hope he encountered in months, and for the life of him, he would grasp onto anything that would relieve him of his impossible headache.

"What is it?"

Struggling to retrieve a folder amidst the files, Jan adjusted the stack for a couple heartbeats before handing the prince a sickish yellow portfolio, eliciting a discontented grunt from Joshua. Why someone would employ such an inconsistent, not to mention highly inappropriate color to contain official documents was beyond what he could fathom. It was irritable at the minimum, and despicable at the least.

"I believe that folder holds the key to your dilemma, Your Highness." Jan smiled, his violet eyes glittering expectantly as he stood, practically emanating glee as Joshua arched his brow suspiciously. He wasn't a proponent of Jan's vague descriptions, and he would have admonished him for it, if it wasn't for that fact that nine times out of ten, his butler's predictions were accurate.

"Hm."

At first glance, Joshua supressed with herculean effort the bile threatening to rise up his throat, his pale amethyst irises narrowing as he stared at the contents. Pasted rigidly in the center of the book of parchment was a…portrait, a family portrait of Prince Leonardo's house, from perhaps before Leonardo and himself entered the academy. That was a time before either of them was bolstered by the hate of their national identities, and although they weren't in any denotative indication considered as friends, an occasional friendly hello when their paths intersected in the halls were, at least manageable.

He recognized the late King and Queen of Nerwan. Youthful in their smiles and the manner they positioned their arms around their son, their displays stood in stark contrast against the visceral images of their burned corpses, found in that fated fire just half a decade ago. The queen, her fingers adorned with refulgent rubies and pink topaz, was every bit as dignified as Joshua's own mother; while the king's piercing topaz eyes concealed his venerable wisdom, akin to that of a prophet, even imparted from the divine the gifts of divination. Despite their differences, Joshua respected their stateliness, especially the strict conduct that the King upheld within his household. He had, during his adolescent years witnessed first-hand the impeccable ways of Leonardo's servants, their mannerisms flawless enough to rival Jan's services.

No matter how hard he stared, or how high he held it up in the remnants of the afternoon light, he couldn't comprehend what Jan had possibly meant by "the key". Nothing he saw could in any sense hold the denouement to his quandary, in fact, the only thing that portrait contributed to Joshua was that it provoked a series of repressed memories that he'd rather not reminisce.

He slammed the folder down on his desk, his force slightly more prominent than he anticipated.

"I don't see anything that could possibly be of assistance."

Jan sighed, his breath conjuring up a small, almost unnoticeable puff of air as he lowered his eyes. In a moment of bizarre synchrony, his legs blurred with swift agility, and before Joshua had the time to recollect his thoughts, Jan had already appeared before him, arms removed of the mountain of documents.

"Your Highness." He mouthed, his tone steadfast, something Joshua often attributed was Jan's personal method of mocking him, of subtly tarnishing his princely pride. He gritted his teeth, and convened the control not to comment on his butler's impertinence as Jan glided his finger to the photograph. He followed the trail of motion, squinting painfully to focus on Jan's designated spectacle.

Prince Joshua was the type of person to avoid excessive weight at all costs. That said, he also held an affinity for contacts over glasses. On more leisurely days, the prince was provided more than sufficient time to fix his vision in the more physically appealing and efficient method. He absolutely detested the manner in which the hollow metal of his glasses would latch onto the arc of his nose, dispensing the feeling that his bones arched in an unnatural dip, almost as if a part of his feature's been displaced.

Jan watched patiently as the prince begrudgingly retrieved his lens before smiling courteously. "Your Highness, I believe a solution lies within this girl."

Girl?

After a second of avid searching, Joshua finally located the child Jan was referring to. Behind the seemingly regal apparatus of Leonardo and his parents was a discordant penumbra, one that stemmed from a small girl that couldn't have been more than merely ten years of age. Unfortunately for Joshua, she wasn't looking at the camera the moment this photo had been documented, so he held no resolution in which to ascertain her exact facial features. Though, judging by the manifestation of the equally enigmatic hair in which Leonardo so conceitedly exhibited, he was left, free and confident to deduct that she must bear some direct relation to the Nerwan royal family. Or, more specifically, if he could be so daring to assume…

"Leonardo's sister."

Jan nodded, his eyes paralleling that of a mesmerist. "Yes, Your Highness. That's Princess Stephanie of Nerwan, second in line for the throne and the only remaining royal in their kingdom."

Upon Jan's words, Joshua faintly recalled an episode from almost two decades ago, a time when he and Leonardo were of a harmonious companionship, prior to their exposure to their conflicting heritages. He had seen the late queen of Nerwan, particularly in this one scene where her velvet robes merged with last remains of the twilight graves, gathering light as she held a small bundle of flesh tenderly within her arms. He remembered the fascination in which Leonardo addressed the infant, with her large, curious irises of the most unadulterated amber. Her gaze was clear, her skin smooth and creamy; but overall, to the six years old Joshua Lieben at the time, she appeared more like a beverage that one would consume to guarantee an uninterrupted slumber.

He once again affixed his gaze on the photo, its edges roughened by the turmoil of time, speaking wordlessly of the history it had transcended. Although the parchment was torn at parts, akin to a warship's sails after years of tempestuous storms, it didn't affect the visage of the young princess in her candid pose, staring eagerly up into the background offings.

However, despite everything, he couldn't understand why Jan would delegate the future of the entire kingdom upon her elfin shoulders. Before he could enquire its intricacies, his butler, in his perpetually wondrous manner of insight stymied his thoughts with a familiar smile, his pearlescent teeth making him appear all the more eager to dispel Joshua's curiosity.

"Your Highness", he began, shifting his weight ethereally to his left foot. "If I recall correctly, His Majesty the King married at age twenty-four."

"Hm." Joshua couldn't quite deduct where Jan would inculcate this conversation, so instead of exhausting his steward with questions, he decided to sit back and listen.

Jan's perfect, unswerving smile got just a little wider. "If my memory proves further infallible, Her Highness Stephanie of Nerwan is but six years younger than Prince Leonardo, which would make her but five years younger than Prince Joshua, yourself."

Jan had always possessed the quality of making the most common of statements into something deeper than their intended meaning. However, that particular attribute of his, whilst useful at times, at others were just patronizing the abstract – something that Joshua not only found peculiar, but also extremely maddening.

"What are you trying to say?"

Joshua narrowed his eyes when Jan humbly placed his fingers over his heart, his back arcing forward in the most expert of curtsies.

"Forgive my inefficiency, Your Highness. What I'm recommending is that you further enhance the relations between the Lieben royal house with the Nerwan royal family by taking Princess Stephanie as your bride."

_Well, that certainly wasn't what Prince Joshua had been expecting. _Oratory presentation wasn't exactly his forte, so whatever incoherencies he would utter in the next moment would probably just contribute to his humiliation instead of redemption. Instead, he stared, forcefully and unwaveringly at Jan's smiling form, his heart growing heavy as his butler's immaculate disposition remained consistent with the passing seconds.

"It would certainly diminish the rebellions at the eastern borders." He began once more, his eyes shining as he walked over to the mountain of niveous parchment. Joshua raised his brow when Jan recovered a singular sheet of paper, its diaphanous white surface painting it almost transparent through scattering lights.

"Princess Stephanie is the last of her bloodline within boundaries, Your Highness. She's the last beacon of hope for the Nerwan civilians, the last figure to which they attach their faith." His voice comprised of a majestic dynamo, the richness of his tenor commanding, so commanding that even Joshua complied his attention.

"If the Lieben family would incorporate the Nerwan Princess as well, then pray tell, where shall the rebelling citizens invest their hopes for balance? Furthermore, it would completely dismiss the potentiality of Prince Leonardo rising again." His smile took on more of an ominous fortitude as he articulated his next words, his tone dismantling Joshua's nonchalance for the first time since Jan entered his master's office.

"After all, if we hold his sister hostage in the name of wedlock, there would be little hope of His Highness Leonardo gathering adequate public support to pose as a pronounced threat." Receding the atmosphere he had drawn around him, Jan stepped back, allowing a faint moment to lapse his chilled tonality before amassing his usual perfection. Joshua blinked, a couple times in succession, Jan's words slowly desiccating his envisioned protest.

The more he thought of it, the more the idea became increasingly more appealing. Joshua leaned back into the lush, leathery depths of his armchair, the languorous motion of his arm a lively contrast against his serious expression. He had contemplated, long and hard over on reducing this mental segregation of the Nerwan citizens, but always in his solitude yielded disappointing results. He didn't have the ambition to seek refuge from neighboring Altaria and Philip, nor did he gain the humility overnight to personally confront his people. For he knew, that their resentment reflected not only towards Dres Van, but more pointedly, specifically at the prince himself for driving their sovereign out of the country. Though, what they had failed to unveil by their own autonomies was that Leonardo deceived them by fleeing on the warfronts, just before he personally underwent the humiliation of receiving Nerwan's fall.

Which means, what sowed the seeds of their collective dauntlessness was the existence of that insignificant little princess, one who was only barely of age. If she was five years inferior to Joshua, then she would be of nineteen years old, a ripe and enthusiastic age maintained by unhealthy diets and unrealistic hopes for the world. He did realize that his generalization wouldn't necessarily apply to a girl of royal standing; however, assuming that she was rational, the cleverest option would be to yield to Joshua's advances.

The distant concept of marriage had always been but a tool to Joshua – he had known, ever since he was but a child that through matrimony, he could achieve great heights unimaginable if he were to succeed on his own. He loved his mother, but in his heart he believed that if his father had chosen to marry a woman of a greater social hierarchy, the outlook of Dres Van would be of an entirely different spectrum.

A marriage proposal towards the Nerwan princess would mean challenging his competence in a never before seen spotlight, one exposed on the most affordable stage for the entire country to condemn. However, on the other hand, if fortune graced him with the possibility of triumph, he would, as crown prince, bring Dres Van historically unsurpassed glory, one eternalized for immeasurable centuries to come.

It was more than obvious which side he would favor. Though, there were a few obstacles he was inclined to dissipate before venturing into this plot.

"Jan," he said, "Where are the documents for the fourth amendments to statues pertaining to Dres Vanian marital laws?"

Jan immediately grew wary of his master's demand, his eyebrows trembling noticeably as he eyes scanned over every corner of the opulent office. "I believe they're in the library archives, Your Highness. Shall I go fetch them?"

"Yes."

Joshua closed his eyes as Jan's footsteps echoed down the manor corridors, the sound of his door shutting but an inaudible click, one nullified by the roaring torrents of water descending outside his window. Dissolved in both regret and hatred, the rain fell mercilessly, dauntingly as if they had minds of their own, all unanimously resolute on destroying Dres Van's comeliness as an international tourist favorite.

How had his father put it?

_Heaven in jettison, paradise forsaken._ The future of the kingdom lay within his hands, and yet, Joshua was demolished to the extent where he had to depend on a teenage girl for security.

His laugh served solely as an indication of his tragic fate, his breath imbuing his pitiful heart in the open air.

Minutes must have condensed into seconds, for to Joshua's senses, Jan returned soundlessly, just heartbeats after his departure. There were volumes of text, each comprising massive amounts of redundant text in his hands, and yet, despite their obvious gravity, Jan poised them in his arms with lucrative ease.

He handed Joshua the topmost volume, settling the remains on his mahogany desk.

"Your Highness, this is the most recent edition of Dres Van's marital law amendments." He said, a thin sheen of perspiration glistening his forehead. "I believe the laws you're looking for are under the eleventh statue, section IV and subsection VII, located on page 389."

"Your assistance is unnecessary." Joshua promptly flipped to the section, his eyes pensive as he scanned its containments. His expression grew darker, increasingly more incredulous – those amendments were of the utmost absurdity, but most importantly, they wouldn't abide to Joshua's campaign.

"The most recent amendment states that 'members of the royal family must acquire a treaty of peace, sustaining for at minimum three decades before joining another royal family in matrimony'".

Jan blinked, inclining his head disconcertedly to the side. "Yes, Your Highness, is there a problem?"

_What? _"Leonardo's parents are dead. There's no way of obtaining a treaty from them." Deadpan as his heart was his voice. Slumping once again into his chair, Joshua firmly pressed his lavender shaded lashes upon his cheekbones, his desperate, but slightly relieved sigh hovering inside his throat. If he wasn't forced by situational demands to such doleful reparations, then there was perhaps not a power prominent enough in the world to induce him into a marriage with a prepubescent little girl-

"Your Highness, please flip to page 394."

Joshua shook his head in dismay, but nevertheless turned the volume in hand to Jan's suggestion. There was nothing remarkable of its content: a few exceptions to illicit wildfires, encompassing accidents as well as 'unfortunate natural phenomena'; regulations in which civilians had to follow in order to acquire gun ownership, and-

He suddenly shot up, the forward jostle of his body instantly incinerating the neat pile of documents situated at the edge of his desk. Joshua had but a couple seconds to relish in Jan's act of burying his face in his hands, an odd sense of feat unfolding in his heart. The feeling was akin to a child accomplishing one of his mischiefs, one that he knew would remain unscathed, undiscovered by the adults.

He exclaimed nonetheless. "The exceptions to any law from section IV are listed as following: extreme illness, cases of international turbulence or _death._"

Jan nodded satisfactorily. "Indeed. Also, because Her Highness Stephanie is the last descendent of the Nerwan royal family within national borders, that abides her by the premises of statue eight, section VI the ruler of her people. No treaty is required, Your Highness."

Joshua grimaced bitterly. In Jan's few words, he had summoned Joshua an incompetent impression, in the sense that he was incapable of forming valid deductions himself. Though, because Jan had offered him the ingenious idea in the first place, he decided not to chastise him for his insolence. Not today.

"Prepare the limo", the prince ordered to his steward, the latter bowing in skilful elegance, the shadows of his eyes made invisible under the dim crystal chandelier above his head.

"And prepare some guards."

Nature roared, their cries astigmatic, sickly, tantamount to an admission of defeat against Prince Joshua Lieben's resolutions. He smiled; knowing that from that point on, his life would be irrevocably altered. Though, for the first time in years, the outcomes of his decisions were no longer within his grasp – the evanescent feeling of control slowly seeping of his fingers was…ineffable. He couldn't describe it, nor conceive it. All he knew was that the future of Dres Van weighed suffocatingly on his shoulders, and it was his sole duty as Crown Prince to sustain it, devoid of complaints.

He would do anything for his kingdom, _anything for his people. _

_Even if the price to pay was his happiness. _It was the curse of royal blood, an ancient, incurable curse that swelled through his veins, through his family, through his ancestry centuries previous to the modern landscape:

One in a position of power can no longer enjoy the freedom of choice.

"Guards?" Jan lifted his head, molten violet eyes imploring the prince inquisitively, the sight reminding Joshua faintly of the first time Jan had witnessed a Dres Vanian rainbow.

Nodding curtly, Joshua replied, "Yes, guards."

He stepped out of his chair, and proceeded slowly to the door, taking these brief seconds to once again confirm his decision. Yes, he would marry Leonardo's sister, and he would persuade the Nerwan colonies to finally consent to his rules, live by his standards. Although the idea itself was beyond irrational, he couldn't help but see a glimmer of hope beyond the grey horizons, as if for the first time in weeks, the sun would once again bestow upon Dres Van its feral radiance.

"Jan," he said, "We're departing for the Nerwan estate at once." His every word was enunciated with clarity, rendering it all the more indisputable to his loyal butler.

"Your Highness, the weather…"

Joshua poked his head from behind the door frame, his fierce brows knitted irately, tightly together. "I am aware of that. Have you ever heard of the idiom, 'hit while the nail is sharp?' I'm doing this so that Princess Stephanie can't escape before we arrive at Nerwan Castle."

With that, he vanished in the enveloping majesty of the manor corridors, abandoning a forlorn, and slightly amused looking Jan. His voice but a faint whisper beneath the mystically pouring skies, the butler stifled a light chuckle before retorting:

"I believe the saying is, '_strike while the iron's hot_', Your Highness."

**Chapter II**

"Your Highness, we have arrived."

It had taken Joshua but seconds to emerge from his limo.

The late autumn tempests were charmed with a valiant bravado, one that effortlessly raised the golden, ochre and crimson leafs off the ground, waltzing them into a stylish dance of spontaneous brilliance. In contrast to their sanguine extemporaneity was the ominousness of the skies, their nebulous folds fostered the darkest, most potent of rains, almost as if they were devoid of origins, but cared only of termini. The cascading waters only appeared to have agitated the cold, causing the amethyst haired prince to shiver involuntarily into the thick layers of his signature winter scarf. Joshua raised it swiftly over his nose, his expression proved austere, his resplendent eyes caliginous.

Nerwan castle was just as he had remembered – there was a picturesque quality to the colossal stone fortress. Unlike the Renaissance, classical grandiose of Dres Van Manor, the archetypes of Nerwan architecture were charmed with compelling asymmetry, provoking abstract sights that defined conventional aestheticism. It was jagged and fear provoking in its protruding gray stones, but at the same time possessed an untamed, desolate majesty that reminded him faintly of 19th artistic masteries back at Dres Van Manor. Its shape, outline and various chiaroscuros cast by the hazy afternoon skylights drew a faint parallel with Monet's _Saint Lazare Station: __both produced a symphony of poeticism by confining vision, almost reducing the human existence beyond ratification and into a realm of mind, of indiscernible colors and angles, into a realm of __shadows. __He had held high regard towards Monet's work, but the blemish of his diamond would inevitably be his hyperbolically dramatic apparitions. Though, perhaps, the notion of slowly and creatively losing one's mind does retain some sort romantic connotation. _

_ As he walked towards the entrance, Joshua could hear Jan's steady footsteps echoing against the textured grounds, accompanied by the less rhythmic, but indefinitely more forceful ones of his bodyguards. He had initially ordered a dozen of them; however, since his vehicle attested that it was not sufficiently spacey to contain all his men, he begrudgingly settled on seven, since arriving at the castle in an entire solidary parade would be most absurd. _

_ With the last of summer warmness dissipating into evanescence, all the typically blandiloquent vegetation encompassing the castle descended into their hibernation, their forms mitigated, deplete of august dignity. However, despite overwhelming odds, Joshua was most bewitched to discover that rows of efflorescent wisteria adorned the walls of the building, their existences although futile, but nevertheless stunning. They extended far towards to the ends of the castle, extricating elaborately from Joshua's visual field, their pale purple flowers blooming with their might, as if they remained ignorant of the avarice and licentiousness of the world as protected by the eternal chrysalises of their beauty. They were insignificant, but glorious._

_ Two guards, or knights, judging by their uniform patrolled listlessly the grand marble staircase, their shadows amalgamated into to an intersecting crossroad. Their faces bore identical looks of nonchalant fatigue, like mirror portraits created by an ambidextrous creator – of two entities, but fused inexplicably in one singular mind. As Joshua approached them, they cast their chatoyant eyes towards the prince, recognition evident in their expressions; however, regardless of expected customs, they did not budge, but instead puffed their chests out in the most ridiculous fashion, every indication of disrespect for the Prince. _

_ Joshua narrowed menacingly his brows. The prospect of such impudence from these petty guards was beyond unacceptable, agitating only further his brimming frustration caged for the previous couple months. If it wasn't for Jan's sake of planting his fingers firmly upon Joshua's shoulder, the Dres Vanian prince would have, inevitably and ultimately released his fury upon the castle security. Fortunately, Joshua Lieben was no Keith Alford – his maturity was impeccably balanced with adequate stoicism that lashing out like an indignant child was still far from persuasive. Relapsing anger masked by a slow diversion of his eyes, he turned back, allowing his butler to dominate their exchange with his inquisitive gaze and perfect smile._

_ "Greetings." The guards stole a transient look towards one another, their expressions dubious, all of this absorbed flawlessly in Jan's indecipherable composure._

_ "His Highness Joshua Lieben, Crown Prince of the Kingdom of Dres Van would like to request an audience with the Nerwan Princess." Joshua immediately shot an annoyed glance towards Jan, his amethyst eyes darkening in displeasure. His steward's ephemeral flirtations between stringent commands and allegedly 'kind' inquisitions often occupied his confusion; but under these circumstances, his particular word choice just made Joshua appear weak, subjected, and __defined._

_ "The Princess shall not receive anybody without a prior appointment." Said one of the guards, while the other one reached steadily towards his belt, the smooth fabric of his suit jacket concealing the bloating shape of his pistol. Although his hands intended otherwise, his eyes were concentrated unwaveringly on Jan, who shrugged indifferently, just milliseconds before his fingers met in a fluid motion. His refreshing snap shattered the tension permeating silence. Before the Nerwan guards received sufficient time to defend themselves, Prince Joshua's body guards already positioned themselves, their features equally ferocious as they held their guns steadfast, their glossy metal tips reflecting venomous light._

_ Jan chuckled, the same chuckle of Lucifer, moments before his fated descent from Heaven into the depths of oblivion. Joshua stiffened to the threatening curve of Jan's half smirk, an expression he would assemble exclusively when he intended to infiltrate one's nightmares for years to come. He watched intently as his butler stepped closer, the motion of his dress heels forming whispering taps against the granite._

_ "My apologies, gentleman." He mouthed, placing his hand cordially over his chest. _

_"I don't believe I have made myself clear. When I speak of attaining permission, I actually mean 'demanding compliance'." _

_ He took another step closer, propelling the Nerwan guards to scurry back until their backs collided against the cold, senseless exterior of the castle. _

_ "Now please open the gates before we venture to do so ourselves." There was an unspoken message behind Jan's words, their implications evading even the most displaced definition of kindness. Joshua's gaze curiously roamed to the castle guards, who appeared to have contemplated in conflating fear and apprehension before relenting, and inclined their heads down, low in spiritless reverence. _

_ Observing this change, Jan smiled satisfactorily to himself, and with a wave of his hand signalled the Dres Vanian syndicate to retire from their stances. He strode forward, and allowed his palm to absorb a moment of transitory peace before expiring, and creaking open the corroded entrance of Nerwan castle. _

_ "Your Highness." He said. Without looking at Jan, Joshua crossed the opening, his expression wary, but tinged with a slight expectancy in the upraised fashion of his brows. This wasn't Joshua's first journey into enemy territory – there had been a much simpler time, a time where he wasn't plagued with the burden of Dres Van's prosperity, nor when he and the Nerwan prince were vexed to such depravity. There was a time, a hidden time of sunshine, their golden rays shattering the monotonous, somnolent atmosphere that now pervaded the castle corridors. The memory, as if anew, displayed a grave dissonance between affections and reality, and Joshua couldn't help but grimace, lamenting over the loss of beauty. For he knew, when stripped of all complications, the deplorable landscape of Nerwan kingdom originated from the sins of his pride, leaving his only justification that truth, as a concept itself lacked distinct margins._

_ What once seated upon the vivacious capital of Nerwan had shriveled and diminished into a pathetic excuse of a manse, its crumpling interior emphasizing its pitiful state. The maroon tapestries adorning the high walls now were devoid of its vibrant youth, and were displayed at the most haphazard intervals, as if they cost merely a millionth of their values. Yellow and aghast were the colors of the walls: filthy, blurred and ridden of their usual, pristine sight of unadulterated white. Dust had accumulated on the intricately painted vases, their shining porcelain surfaces covered with sheens of repugnant grey, sucking the prospect of life mystically out of them. Now, they merged into the pestilent shadows, their regrets unvoiced, unheard. Joshua had to squint in order to discern the linings of the corridors he walked, for the crystalline chandeliers over their heads no longer functioned beyond their ornery purposes. It was truly a wonder how the castle managed to sustain all its inhabitants, given its distasteful quality of furnishings and obvious lack of hygiene. Though, the prince couldn't help but attribute this happening to the absence of staff – the entire time they implored the castle's insides, not a single soul arrived, not even to drive their despised existences into Dres Van's borders._

_ "Jan, go and locate the princess' whereabouts." Bowing briefly, Jan vanished at the next turning point, his strenuously erect posture casting a stylish shadow against the withered red carpets. _

_ Joshua leaned against a clearer, paler portion of the walls, and closed his eyes under the perplexed gazes of his plethora of bodyguards. If it wasn't for the fact that the royalty transfers were delayed due to his arduous schedule, he would have longed to transform Nerwan castle into a museum. It could definitely raise enough funds to both rescue Dres Van's economy, and at the same time reprimand the unyielding Nerwan citizens for their unreasonable demands. Though, he couldn't quite comprehend the motives behind Princess Stephanie's uncharacteristic behavior – if she had known that the disappearance of her brother would place her in a jeopardizing position, then why had she not left with him? _

_ He breathed, and wrinkled his nose, repulsed by the rancid scent of rotting wood that traversed impishly to his senses. __Were her purposes fraudulent, just like that of her brother's? __He thought absently to himself, unaware of the fact that his guards started to wander vacantly, hovering like incorporeal ghosts against the fogged window glasses. Deduction wasn't exactly his forte. Instead, his speciality lay in recalling with brevity and clarity details typically forsaken, and mustering his power, he untangled the silver threads of a memory, buried profound in the depths of his conscience. If his recollections proved of consistent excellence, then-_

_ "Your Highness." Joshua's eyes shot open, and immediately affixed them on Jan's smiling form. He cupped, in his fingers the forearm of a castle maid, her wide, apprehensive pupils sparkling innocence, so much so that for a fleeting moment, Joshua felt a pint of empathy for the horrified creature. _

_ "I believe she is the Princess' personal maid." He said, "And she has consented to take us to her chambers." _

_ Although her body obeyed, Joshua could nevertheless detect the reluctance glimmering in her eyes, rendering her akin to a frightened doe in her docile disposition. Jan was not the appalling type to resort to violence to reach his goals, and he was especially chivalrous around women. So, whatever the method of his persuasion, it was something that Joshua neither harbored the patience nor emotional capacity to understand._

_ He didn't say anything, but nodded slowly to Jan, who beamed at the petite girl and released her at once. _

_ "Well then, if you may." He extended his open palm, a Nerwanese gesture that depicted earnestness, equivalent of a pamphlet of peace between tensions of war. She curtsied bluntly, her skirts barely meeting the ground before she scurried down the hall, suddenly astonishing Joshua with her adroit movements. _

_ They followed her, their footsteps a cacophony of uncoordinated jogging. Joshua could swear that some of his men struggled to sustain her pace, hell, some of them were panting, all the while desperately masking their evident incompetence. If they had been in more familiar settings, Joshua would have scolded them, perhaps even going as far to fire them from their posts. However, now, they were the sharp razor's edge that balanced him from the brims of harm and refuge._

_ She finally came to a halt outside a door frame of stunning ivory leaves, their elaborately sculpted edges and shapes embedded with trails of wisteria, their petite petals made impalpable by the merging patterns. Overall, it was the first illustrious sight that Joshua witnessed since entering the castle; thus, judging by its sanitary shine and obviously unspoiled conditions, it was safe, even for him to conclude that the room was occupied after all that time._

_ Jan raised his hand, and was just about to knock when the small maid, in a blurring motion raised her knuckles and completed his task for him. He blinked, his expression not yet able to register what had happened when a smooth, melodious voice emanated from inside the walls. _

_"Come in!" Unlike the lethargy Joshua had anticipated, the princess – if she was indeed the princess – sounded enthusiastic, chirpy, almost. Her tone gave Joshua faintly the impression that she was expecting a joyful picnic, instead of her ostensible archenemies on the other side of her door. Jan stole a short glance towards his master, and upon observing the questioning groove of his brows, shrugged lightly before reaching towards the doorknob, unearthing the princess' chambers with one crisp, audible click._

_…_

_This time, it was Joshua who first stepped inside, his eyes searching keenly through the beige antebellum furniture for her shadow. It wasn't that he held any particular interest towards the princess; it was rather that he desired to escape the acerbic hollowness that haunted Nerwan castle. The sooner that they would get their plans across, the sooner he can resume his routine paper-signing and press conferences, he thought, biting sharply into his bottom lip. __The longer his absence endured, more pregnant became the possibility of the press mutilating his motives. __Given the state of the kingdom, Joshua simply couldn't afford another malicious trade-off between security and reputation, especially when nature wasn't in his favor._

_Though, those concerns were dismissed instantly when lilt, barely perceivable footsteps resonated from behind him, and seconds later she emerged, a wet towel only barely containing her flamboyant ochre curls upon her head. Her legs were bare, pale, almost bloodless. The clear lack of lustre of her limbs can be attributed both to the year-long rainclouds infatuating the Nerwan skylines, or the fact that just like Prince Leonardo and the rest of their family, she was born, blessed with the skin of fair snow and eyes of the most unadulterated amber. _

_She stopped, her sudden immobility forcing Joshua to divert his eyes to her facial features instead. By this time, the rich aroma of rose flooded the room, filtering his senses with a surrealistic redolence, which, given any other circumstances would have proven effervescently fugacious. However, under her piercing glance and slightly, just slightly parted lips, he couldn't draw on any other sentiment, none other than sheer annoyance._

_He blinked, and so did she._

_…_

_Seconds droned on, transitioning into minutes, hours, eventually challenging the prominence of days. He turned his head away in awkwardness, for she just stared, her lissome form appearing frozen between shock, and that instant of adrenal flight when one anticipates an unconquerable foe. It was no surprise that she recognized him, no, that was no longer the question – what raided Joshua from his comfort zone was her very trait of ambiguity, that he couldn't ascertain the mechanisms of her mind behind that masterful poker-face of hers._

_She was like the exact female replica of Prince Leona-_

_"To what do I owe this honor, Your Highness?" Joshua widened his eyes in awe as she sneered, descending her waist in mock curtsey that identified far too low for the sake of acknowledgment. Her voice was acidic, her high soprano ridden completely of their previous mellifluousness, rendering it all the more unpleasant. Although her head neared the ground, her penetrating irises remained dignified, effectively shattering his confidence that she too, was one of those noble ladies who swooned at the very sight of him. _

_Which would indicate the necessity of more __meticulous means__. Collecting his most charismatic smile, he slowly approached her and raised her on her feet, careful to permit his fingers only upon the fabric of her bathrobe. _

_ Though, before he even touched her, she slapped his hand away with a sharp, onerous motion, the collar of her robes revealing slightly the spotless skin at the curve of her breasts. Joshua immediately turned, furious with his momentary vulnerability before another slap was bestowed, this time blatantly on his cheek. He staggered backwards, his expression astonished, appalled as she stared him down, not fearful, but of an ancient anger, of a potent degree of hate that he had never before encountered. _

_ "You're disgusting." Well, that was certainly a new way of greeting her future husband. Joshua gritted his teeth, while shedding his 'kind and generous' façade as his hand flew involuntarily to his features, lightly treading over the manifesting shade of crimson below his sculpted cheekbone. _

_Such…she was unbelievable. __Before he could bellow his indignation, Jan stepped cautiously before him, and raised his arm in that demure manner that spoke only of tenderness, and none of menace. _

_ "Your Highness, I can assure you that we mean no harm-" _

_ His proclamation was interjected with a swift wave of her hand. "Don't 'Your Highness' me. How dare you rascals…how do you even have the nerve to show up here?!" she yelled. Although her chin was raised high, her composure perfect, Joshua still managed to detect the feverish emotions bubbling in her chest, trembling her knees as she strove to remain vertical. _

_ She pointed a manicured nail, straight in the direction of Joshua's face. _

_ "You're the reason why my family is ruined. And you still have the audacity to show up at my castle?" _

_ A few colorful tendrils of her hair fell from her towel, its shade constant with the clear, resolute gaze of her molten amber irises._

_ "Get out. Leave Nerwan at once, before my guards remove you by force." _

_ Adamant in his stance, Joshua lowered his voice, dreading that he would further offend her before even graced the opportunity to narrate his point. _

_ "I do not wish to offend, Princess Stephanie. I am-"_

_ "Do not wish to offend?" She asked, flabbergasted by his emotionally detached invocation. The princess firmly turned away from him, the quick twirl of her bodice liberating her hair from the folds of her towel, to which the vivid strands fell in invigorating motions. Her face was unseen, but the prowess of her voice remained incontestable._

_ "It's a little late for that, don't you think?"_

_ "Your Highness." Jan stepped forward, his hand placed directly above his heart in veneration. "Please listen, we are here for a noble cause."_

_ "Noble?!" By this point, Joshua's first impression of Princess Stephanie of Nerwan had been established quite holistically. Judging by the sequences of her conduct, accompanied by the shrill undertones of her voice and the inept performance of her social wardrobe, he could, without a doubt conclude that: _

_She's crazy._

_"Yes, Your Highness." Not succumbing to her hostility, Jan resumed his speech with ease, "We are here to discuss a treaty that can surely rescue both our, and the Nerwanese citizens from the turmoil they exhibit." _

_ He stepped forward, his warm eyes meeting the cautious amber of the Princess', "I'm sure that Your Highness too is concerned over their welfare."_

_ "How do you expect me to trust you, especially when your beloved prince here single-handedly demolished my kingdom?!" Truth be told, Joshua experienced a surge or pleasure, or rather smugness when she accentuated the phrase 'single-handedly' – despite her antagonistic missive, she had unintentionally confirmed the prince's skill. The bluntness of her rapid-fire speech just further supported that fact._

_ Jan blinked, a few times before he replied. "Because just like the Nerwan royal family, the Liebens too wish to abolish the rebellions without genuinely bringing harm. I'm sure you can understand that, milady." _

_ Jan's furthering statement was captured by a twist of her neck, and vehemently did she address Joshua, who had remained unflappably silent, troubled. "Why is your butler suddenly your mouthpiece, Lieben? Don't tell me your guilt has finally robbed you the ability to speak."_

_What?__ He ignored her pointed insult. "Mouthpiece? Your assumption is unamusing. It's simply more efficient to have Jan speak in my place, since you've amply clarified that you'd rather physically assault me in lieu of listening."_

_ "Only a tip of the iceberg." In a mocking inducement, she blew an eerie puff of air between her fingers, her lustrous lashes casting a moiety of translucent shadows upon her cheekbones. "There's plenty more where that came from, you mindless tyrant."_

_ He angrily narrowed his eyes, the impassivity of his features betrayed by the dusky purple of his thinning irises. "To name me a tyrant implies treason, and under the name of the Dres Vanian accords, it is perfectly legal for me to detain you back to the manse for further questioning."_

_ That did it. She advanced closer to Joshua, completely abandoning the fact that her bare body was clad only by an inadequately secured bathrobe. "Need I remind you that you're speaking to the mistress of this castle, not to mention the only __surviving__ member of the Nerwan royal family?"_

_Surviving? __He too came closer, his fury dwarfed by inflating curiosity, and to a faint, almost ethereal extent, dread. _

_"Leonardo's dead?"_

_Pursing her rosy lips tightly together, her expression at once became ashen, the torrents of bright curls camouflaging the dimmed twinkle within her eyes. A silence instantly warped the room, the only sounds within reception the faint shuffling of the obsidian sun navigating through the darkened clouds, their silver linings heavy with the burden of heaven's abundant tears. As he absorbed this revelation, Joshua suddenly felt exhausted; his principle, the very essence of his soul trembled, and it took every last lining thread of his resolution not to openly grieve for his enemy. _

_ The deserted could be saved, but could the gone ever be found?_

_Jan walked silently towards the princess, and softly touched her at the tip of her shoulder. The sheer solemnity of his features brought Joshua a new catharsis, but he dared not to tread in those forbidden waters, at least not in front of Leonardo's baby sister._

_ "I'm sorry for your loss, Princess Stephanie." His words were simple; not meant to petition nor persuade, but was only, simply to comfort her sorrow. She didn't move, but her fingers crippled, digging into her smooth palms with a force that threatened to tear her skin apart, her eyes shut, deadpan behind her dampened orange gossamers. Joshua wasn't a stranger to the concept of separation, nor the departure of loved ones from this realm to another; but what amazed him the most, in that very moment was, inevitably and ultimately the princess' lack of tears._

_ She didn't cry. She just…stood there. Was it because that she no longer possessed any tears to shed? Was it because she had already drained her last?_

_ "You're monsters," she said as she moved away, her absence dropping Jan's hand flaccidly to his side. _

_ "But it's not your fault that he died. He should have listened to me and stayed at the castle. He wouldn't have been killed by those vagabonds if he chose to stay."_

_ "Forgive my insensitivity, Your Highness, but how did you manage to attain the message that Prince Leonardo had…"_

_ She turned away from the Dres Vaninan duo, and soundlessly retreated to a pure white dresser, its handles carved in the most spectacular artistry of roses. Her solitary back elicited a strange sense of loneliness in Joshua's heart – it reminded him of himself, when he was but a toddler, when he watched with moist eyes his parents disappear into the horizons, vacating the vicinity of their adoring presences. It was his first memory, also the first time that he genuinely experienced the splendor of human emotion: the fear, the trepidation, and the childish, worthless hope that they'd reappear as soon as he'd cry out…_

_ They didn't. No matter how many times he'd shriek, calling out their names, repeatedly, redundantly, frantically without order, they didn't turn back. He had been awarded, only with the final shades of their shadows merging into the bloody sunset._

_ "Here." The princess handed him a toned watch, its shimmering surface enchanted by a duality of diamond and gold, the extravagance mildly stunning Prince Joshua himself. "This was a watch passed down from our great grandfather. Leonardo's never been seen without it."_

_ She paused for a moment. "The messenger I sent brought this back from the eastern border, smeared with dried blood. He said that there was a wildfire at the location, so any hope of recovering Leo's… It's not possible."_

_ …_

_ Joshua was depleted with words, so his heart swarmed with gratitude when Jan skilfully overtook the conversation. "Princess Stephanie, I'm truly sorry for what has happened to His Highness Leonardo. I hope my trivial condolences-"_

_ She shook her head, the weakened fire rekindling furiously in her irises once more. "Don't bother playing the sympathy card, and don't expect that just because I showed one second of weakness that you have some sort of dominance over me." _

_"If you don't leave within the next ten seconds, I will have my guards forcefully remove you from my quarters." She commanded, crossing her arms over her chest._

_ Her eyes shone of such a prevailing authority that Joshua himself felt backtracked; however, Jan appeared utterly undaunted. "Your Highness, in a turbulent time alike the present, a treaty between our kingdoms could really prove useful to our welfare-"_

_ "I said. Get out." She, too held decisively her position, crossing her loosely wrapper arms across her waist, scrunching the ruffles of her robe in a pastel-like fashion. _

_ Finally, his impatience triumphing over propriety, Joshua scoffed his discontent, just barely acquiring her attention before bellowing. _

_"Are you implying that you have no regard over the welfare of your people? Are you just going to leave them to die to their own devices?"_

_ She looked utterly bewildered, only to further prompt his anger. _

_"You're like Leonardo. Too absorbed in your own life to mind the state of your kingdom. If that's the case, then you don't deserve to be a princess."_

_"Don't you dare bring Leo into this-"_

_"Royalty is worthless without our people. Your soon-to-be future, Princess Stephanie." _

_Her lashes lowered, the scintillations of her eyes occupied with a morbid light, as if she wanted to murder Joshua with the power of her gaze, and her gaze alone. She reminded him strangely of a lioness, her posture mirroring the moment of foreboding silence before a magnificent lunge, steadily pursuing its prey. He breathed, the revitalizing sensation of his exhale surprising him. He hadn't noticed that until that moment how his entire being had been tense in anticipation over the princess' response. Despite the impulsive nature of his words, he was grateful – he would ascertain through other means a solution to his dilemma, as long as he was as far away as possible from the spoiled princess' presence._

_"Jan." he said, pitilessly turning his attention away from her trembling furies. "We're leaving. There's nothing more to be done here."_

_"But Your Highness." Jan extended his hand, soliciting his tenacious master in his departure. "Surely we can reach a compromise, if you would please-"_

_"She's made herself clear. She's not willing to help, not even for her people's sake." The remains of those merciless words he conveyed tasted indescribably bitter on his tongue. He couldn't quite grasp the truth of his message: how the Nerwan royal family produced such imbecilic children was beyond anything he could fathom. Feeling the pounding stridency within his head once again obliterating his logic, he spoke, his voice desperate. _

_"It seems like pledging war is the most optimal strategy-"_

_"Not if I agree to your terms." He stopped dead in his tracks, and in madness spun on his heel to face her, slim arms still tightly crossed over her chest. Although the lethal amber sparks that embellished her irises endured, her shoulders appeared more relaxed, its arcs less rigid. _

_"You said you weren't interested in cooperating with us-"_

_She snorted, planting her fingers, one by one in a continued cadence upon her bathrobe. "I didn't say that, did I? Don't jump to conclusions, Lieben. The world's not as simple as your presumptuous little head imagines it to be."_

_ What? Did she just- __"That's the last thing I want to hear from a girl who's barely of age by her country's customs!" he roared, and a phantom of an ironic smile appeared on the edge of her mouth._

_ "And yet, here you are, begging the alliance of a girl who's practically half your age." He was undeniably stunned. Did she seriously just say those exact words in his face, and to add insult to injury, so carelessly so?_

_ "We're enemies, but for the welfare of the Nerwan citizens, I shall hear you out." The princess added._

_ His incoherent retort was cut short with a wave of her hand. Instead, she turned to Jan, who received her attention with a pleasing grin. "Jan, was it? What exactly is this ingenious plan of yours?"_

_ His smile widened, paralleling first dawn of sunlight, the first natural harbinger to a reviving season of spring. "That, Your Highness, is best discussed at Dres Van Manor, where we have all the documents required to fully inform you of our proposal."_

_ She nodded, her expression vacant for a few moments before replying. "That seems reasonable. Then when shall we proceed to Dres Van?"_

_ "If it is to Your Highness' convenience, we would like to depart at soon as possible." _

_ She pursed her lips together, a golden mean between an effeminate pout and a calculating gesticulation; and, with Prince Joshua's incessant paranoia, he attributed the happening to the latter. "Alright, then allow me some time to get dressed." _

_ Annoyance marking both his voice and expression, Joshua said, "That's unnecessary. We're leaving in a limo. Nobody shall care for your appearance regardless of what you wear."_

_ Her untimely, but remarkably euphonious laugh astounded him, propelling him to fixate on her vanishing form, adjourned halfway behind the polished door of her closet. _

_ "Unlike you, I actually care about presentation, Joshua I'm-too-cool-for-dress-pants Lieben." _

_ "One should only dress formally when the social setting appropriates-"_

_ She disappeared in her inner chambers before she could hear Joshua's growl, accompanied by Jan's ghostly chuckle. _

_Outside the warm encompassment of Nerwan castle sang a symphony of monstrous rain and wind, their grandeurness heightening the caricature of grey that saturated their landscape, establishing a mythic quality only exhibited in the finest impressionist paintings. The waters frequented, their forms resembling diamond strings, columns of divine crafting originating from heaven's depths. There remained no inherent sense of movement as they merged with the skylines into one, one that cried and bled beads of insatiable perspiration and tears. _

_ Outside the stone walls, lines of wisteria quavered between the winds, their endless back-and-forths mocking in laughter, amidst boundless sorrow._

_**Chapter III**_

___"You want me to…what?" _

_ By this point, Prince Joshua was confident that Nature fostered some irreversible grudge again Dres Van. The rain had not halted for days, and although its occurrence ridded Dres Van of its long-suffering drought, it was no viable anesthetic to his persistent headache. The cascade of waters were of a plaintive progression, binding his senses to their sequential tapping noises – much like a metronome, one that perpetuated through the sightless horizons, needless of batteries and the infrequent gear-polish. _

_ The ride back from Nerwan was, simply put, awkward, in the most denotative definition of the word. His guards had sat before the trio, their expressions unanimously nonchalant; though, despite their effortful masks, Joshua could nevertheless detect a few curious glances stolen at the impetuous princess, who had in but a short hour struck up a friendship with his disloyal butler. At first, he had experienced much dissonance at Jan's agitating capitulation, and expressed his discontent with the hard line of his pale lips and a lessened displacement between his brows. However, as seconds swept past him ceaselessly, he discovered the opportunity to observe the little princess via her interactions, normal interactions where she would keep her limbs properly to herself. Through her discourse choice and excessive hand gestures, Joshua's original hypothesis had been confirmed – she, just as he expected, was but a girl that was uncertain of the world, concealing her insecurities and ignorance underneath a separating veil of feigned valor. Everything about her reminded him of Leonardo, though, with an equal and somewhat acceptable balance of ebullience and childlike glamor. _

_She didn't seem to possess that innate cunningness that prevailed the rest of her family, or at least, Joshua had failed to excavate that trait upon first glance._

_ Begrudgingly, he admitted to himself: her presence made the car ride indefinitely less tedious that he was accustomed to. For a man who typically drowned himself in endless stacks of official documents and national accords, Prince Joshua wasn't exactly sure if he liked the newly unearthed sensation or not. It was…fresh, uplifting, just enough to justify his assumption that out of some miracle, she was the better version of her brother. Though, whether she had, in her mere nineteen years ever exhibited Leonardo's talent in diplomacy was open to question._

_ A day had passed, and now, they were now situated within his office in foreboding opposition. Her slim fingers were spread, wide across his mahogany desk, her eyes of liquid amber boring stringently into his. Her awe was more than obvious to his crossed arms, her whitened knuckles transcending his desire to divert his gaze. _

_ Jan had, just seconds ago, in a moment of madness informed her of their strategic resolve to the turbulence between their two kingdoms. Or, rather more accurately, the segregation between the Dres Van regime and its colonized eastern lands. To the prince's dismay, Jan had selected the most indelicate method to apprise her of his thoughts; so inevitably, she stood there, stunned for a few moments before slamming her palm against his graceful desk, aghast with the appalling development._

_ "You want me to…WHAT?" she enquired, her tone appearing with a particular affinity of non-elegance. _

_ He sighed, and glided his hand absently though his hair, several strands still damp from surreptitious entangles of rain that escaped the protection of his umbrella. "I'm sure you heard him, so it's unnecessary to repeat his-"_

_ "You want me to what?" she ignored the faint wrinkle of his nose, continuing in that hauntingly haughty fashion of hers. "Joshua Lieben, did you just say that you wanted to 'take me as your bride'? Have you gone out of your mind?"_

_ Patent with irritation, he responded. "I, personally did not say that. Jan was the one who said-"_

_ "I don't care who said what!" she said, flames of fury dominating her irises once more, creating a nebulous aura that masked he nature of her soul. In anger, she twirled her head, the curling tendrils of her ochre hair paralleling the ancient, eternal vestal fires, armed with effeminate muses of the most remarkable beauty. "You want me to marry you?"_

_ "No. I don't __want __you to marry me." Het snapped, and Jan raised his hands up in defeat._

_ "Then why the hell would you-"_

_ He stood up, so that they were at face level with one another. "Because of the Nerwan princess becomes the future queen of Dres Van, then the unrest at the borders will stop without question." He knew that she wouldn't commiserate with his logic without a fight, and truth be told, he dreaded that she would plant herself firmly on the first loophole she discovered. _

_ She raised a delicate brow, defiance evidently painted across her features. "And what will you do if I say no?" _

_ Oh. Joshua harvested a surge of confidence from her rather irrelevant inquiry. "Unfortunately, Princess Stephanie, we arrived at back within Dres Van's national borders after 10p.m yesterday night. The Dres Vanian accords claims that a member of the general public cannot enter the kingdom after said time, making you" he pointed into the deep maroon velvet of her neckline, "An illegal passenger. So you're stuck here regardless of whether or not you consent to my proposal."_

_ She inclined her lissome waist, bringing her face closer to his. "I will have you know that I am still the princess of Nerwan kingdom, and thus your petty little laws don't apply to me, Lieben." Her floral breath traversed in pitiless vestiges in his nostrils, lapsing him into an opaque state of nonsensical persuasions. Joshua detested himself for his momentary weakness – he had been devoid of human company far too long for the past month, save for Jan, who functioned more as his shadow, rather than practical company. _

_ "Need I remind you, Princess Stephanie, that Nerwan is now a colony of Dres Van? All our laws apply to you, so consequently, there is a long procedure you must undergo before you can successfully vacate from __my castle__."_

_ She gritted her rows of petite, pearlescent teeth in wrath. "You, you bloodsucker. This was planned from the beginning, wasn't it?! And you have the nerve to call yourself a prince?!"_

_ A glimmer of disbelief flashed across his crystallized pair of amethyst before he returned to his tranquil, rather stoically detached equilibrium. "My devices are incomparable to that of Prince Leonardo. As his sister, you should be long adapted to schemes as such."_

_ The tautness between the two stomached for another few seconds before she raised herself up, her fiery hair bouncing ostentatiously against her petite shoulders. "Whatever. Your plan's useless unless I agree to be your wife. Which," her irises invited disdainfulness, "Will never happen, not over my dead body."_

_ "Your body, Princess Stephanie, is stuck in my kingdom until the foreign ministries decide that it is appropriate for you to return to Nerwan." His statement was more of an indignant retort rather than of conversational value. Joshua slowly shook his head, eager to rid himself of the impulsive, juvenile portion of himself that perpetrated his immature banter with the youthful princess. "Did you not come for the purpose of saving your people? Our plan is flawless. Your alliance with us shall ensure that they won't distribute more of their incessant rumbles and protests-"_

_ Her voice telegraphed untainted horrification, "Are you implying that, what you're trying to do is rid my people their hope of ever restoring Nerwan as an independent state?"_

_ "That is exactly what I'm-"_

_ The encompassing warmth of a hand suddenly obstructed his sentence, and Joshua's words were replaced with the ingratiating missive of his butler. Jan's ability to detect his master's misshapes was something much sacred to Joshua, though, sometimes he wished that he wouldn't embarrass him so often in public, especially in front of a kin of the former Nerwan Prince. _

_ "That's definitely not what we're implying, Your Highness. What we're trying to say is that, rather than having the Nerwans engage in meaningless combat, it would be better to cease fighting and calmly discuss the future of Newan. Don't you agree?" he smiled, ignoring Joshua's squirms underneath his hold. _

_ "…" Joshua held his breath as the princess scrutinized him with careful eyes. Other than anger, she appeared to foster an emotion less cynical, one that reignited his hope of carrying on a fruitful conversation. He snapped his fingers, and Jan immediately withdrew his hand, resuming his immaculate position beside his master._

_ "Don't you…" she trailed, her voice perplexed, like an admonished child persisting through a punishment of ambiguous origins. "Don't you care about your own happiness?"_

_ "What's that supposed to mean."_

_ She shrugged, and tucked a mischievous strand of hair behind her ear. "Wouldn't you rather marry someone you actually love, instead of sacrificing your marriage for something purely political?"_

_ He blinked, the mechanisms of his brain rushing to comprehend the nature of her words. "If it's not relevant to the succession of my throne, then it's a waste of my time. I have no need for such superfluous things in my life." _

_ "…"_

_ "What is it now?" he asked, his tone irksome as he observed her slightly contrite gaze. It was as if she pitied him – she, the nineteen year old Nerwan princess, who had never gone as far to set foot outside her kingdom pitied the most competent prince Dres Van had ever known. The thought itself was simply unaccusable._

_ "Don't you ever feel lonely?" she enquired in a mollified manner, tilting her head to her side and suspending her lustrous curls in the air. Joshua was terrified. Within the short lapse of but insignificant heartbeats, her forceful stance had been reduced to one demure and nurturing, much like the image of his mother that he had always persisted. It was impossible to stay mad at her, or rather impossible to stay mad at the impression he conjured and projected upon her petite form._

_ "That is none of your concern." His primary importance was not to yield to his vulnerability, and he had succeeded so by masquerading his emotions with an indifferent façade. As she retorted, offended by his statement, he adverted his attention, at once interested in the vacant picture frame, seated ancient and interminable on the corner of his desk. _

_ "Why, of course it's of my concern. I have no desire to marry an emotionally endangered psychopath who cares for nothing but himself?" It had been empty, it had always been empty. He recalled tiptoeing at the edge of his desk, staring confusedly at the intricately carved frame. The bordering Corinthian patterns erected lonesome against the center white…He had always recognized the object as an abstract metaphor, befitting those that were glorious on the surface, but sustained such an unbreakable chrysalis around them that their hearts were empty. Empty alike a soulless butterfly, one who would fearlessly travel across the oceans, because it had nothing valuable to wager, nothing meaningful to preserve. _

_ "Joshua Lieben, are you listening to me?" she demanded, slightly breathless at Joshua's impassive exteriors. Jan waved his hands apologetically behind his master, while simultaneously attempting to nudge some sort of reaction out of the prince, his efforts, unfortunately, to no avail._

_ "Hm."_

_ He gritted his teeth when his neck was brutally upturned, obliging his eyes into her vivacious ochre ones. He stared, in a way that would cause an ignorant observer to conclude mindless infatuation and bewilderment. What he actually concealed in his heart was a bubbling sense of disgruntlement, for he was more insulted by her bold gesture than genuinely surprised at her lack of social poise. _

_ "Let go of me." He demanded, his voice verified with the highest imaginable authority. _

_ She wasn't shaken by his hostility. "Answer my question first."_

_What?__ His tone was somewhat accusatory,__"I already have. If it has nothing to do with the Dres Vaninan throne, then I want absolutely nothing to do-"_

_ The sharp directs of her nails against his skin propelled a grimace to blossom across Joshua's dashing features. Increasing the strength of her wrist, she brought her face closer to his, so close that he could see the distorted, concave image of himself glistening against her bright irises. Powerlessness, sheer, undeniable powerlessness was conveyed in the fashion in which she secured his chin – he was transfixed, in hypnotized wonderment at the odd, un-prince-like portrayal of himself. _

_ "When can I leave this castle?" she commanded, enunciated every word with derisive clarity, subtly comparing Joshua to the intellectually impaired. Every movement of her lips were slow, desultorily in her shrilling syllables – like a half broken bell, one unsuited to signal the intervals in which time is lost. Satisfying her curiosity wasn't a priority of his, so when she further inclined his head, he merely backtracked into himself, ridding himself the disposition that he cared for anything in this world._

_ It wasn't until Jan interrupted their one-sided exchange that Stephanie released him. "Your Highness, I'm sure we can talk this over-"_

_ "No. There will be no further discussion on the matter. There is no way in hell that I'll marry this guy", she pointed to the recovering Joshua, "I'd rather end up in an insane asylum, living without sunlight or edible food for the rest of my life."_

_ "You're not far off from that end." He said, his captivating tenor readily rancor. Joshua missed Jan's dramatic facepalm, also the princess' flabbergasted expression, her gentle features freezing abruptly in shock. Though she didn't hold volume in his field of vision, he felt gratified at the serenity that encased the lavish space before them. He was gratified, for since the first time they had met, she seemed at a loss for words, be it to describe him in vile and repulsive terms or to consume him with questions, directed mercilessly at the most brittle and sensitive of topics. _

_ She stormed off, the clicking noises of her heels nullified by the opulent Philipian carpets beneath their. Equipped with enough impassivity to dismiss the harsh slam of his door, Joshua reached out and retrieved a document, once again lapsing into that timeless, effortless realm of legal words and phrases. That was where he truly felt comfortable, where he belonged._

_ A luminous fragment of lightning rocketed through the sky, diffusing the looming, tenacious grey that ornamented the Dres Vaninan landscape. It was have proven a remarkable sight, a cynosure imprinted on the memories of adults and children alike: the mythic silver shattering the tonality of the clouds, creating an atmosphere akin to real magic, manifesting a true fairy-tale. However, to Prince Joshua, it was just another distraction in desuetude, something to sidetrack him from his official duties. _

_ It wasn't until Jan adumbrated in that soft, beseeching voice of his did Joshua once again submerge himself in reality. "Your Highness, shall I prepare for wedding arrangements?"_

_ Hesitation erased from his eyes, he replied. "Yeah, do that. Announce that the marriage shall take place within a week's time. Consult Lord Michael of the booking schedules of his castle, and invite all credible nobles from the six kingdoms. Waste no expense for the wedding, especially where the media's involved."_

_ Jan bowed, understanding hovering over the upturned corner of his mouth. "Understood, Your Highness. But…" he deliberated, _

_ "What shall we make of the bride?"_

_ He picked up a quill, and dipped it in a case of midnight-black ink. The particular color had always dispensed an elusive regality, one not overly lurid, but nonetheless possessed the potency of intimidation, of stately power. Careful not to mar the snow-like white of the feather, Joshua glided his hand across the parchment, smiling faintly as he relished in the smooth, unadulterated lines that glided across the page. He felt like a magician, an omnipotent creator who puppeteered his conceptions; an architect who established a scenery of splendid allure. _

_ "I'll convince her before the time comes." He began to write._

An ineffable floral redolence exuded from the spot he stood, just outside of the castle greenhouse, where a transparent layer of glass parted the tropic temperate within against the chilly afternoon breeze.

It was last summer when he had transformed the scenery: Prince Edward, with his brazen etiquette insisted that he kept the seedlings of an entirely new species of rose, bred by none other than the Levaincois house themselves. They were of a peculiar origin – the Charles scientists had miraculously devised a method to interbreed a rare type of tulips with pink roses, merging the two species into rows of delicate effloresces that shone with a divine radiance. There was a tender, fragile quality to every single one of their petals. Almost as if, even upon the lightest, most careful touch, they would shatter into fragments, bleeding phosphorous liquids, or whatever continued within their veins.

Amidst the imbricated designs stood an idle stone bench, one that had not been gifted with human company for months now. He didn't understand why, out of all places, she chose to escape to this insignificant, excessively hot place for refuge. He knew that girls, especially at such a ripe age held a fascinating adoration for anything natural; but still, to think she preferred a place saturated with moist air and blinding perfumes of Charles' national flower was, to a certain extent, agitating to the lavender haired prince.

He peeked inside, momentarily disregarding the knowledge that he was the owner of the estate. There she was, seated gingerly on the edge of the bench, frantically scribbling something inside a leather-clad notebook with concentrated brows. Her quick, effortless movements appeared as if expelling her anger into the small instrument, as if she still dwelled on their dispute the day previous.

He sighed, and leaned against the greenhouse's door, unaware of how hopeless he looked. If she was indeed still angry, he thought to himself, then any attempt at coaxing her into a marriage contract would be dismantled as soon as he would utter his first word. He couldn't risk the possibilities, especially since Jan had already announced the date of their wedding overnight.

Had she learned of this new development? She didn't seem to encompass that murderous aura around her, he observed. Would that mean that she remained uninformed of the proclamations that spread like wildfire over the last twelve hours? Prince Glenn and Prince Roberto had already responded to his invitations, confirming their attendances. The latter even went as far to send him a wedding gift, aweing Joshua with his efficiency, accounting the fact that Dres Van and Altaria were located in opposition of over a hundred kilometers. However, his appreciation had parted instantly when Jan delivered a seventeen-page long letter, cited from none other than the Altarian prince himself, inquiring in the most informal and improper manner how 'Joshy-poo' had obtained a bride in such short notice.

If he was presented an alternative, he thought with acid, he would have never resorted to such fraughting means.

He took a tentative step inside, an action barren of any sort of acumen. She raised her head, her curls vigorous against the frame of her shoulders. To his surprise, she hadn't immediately screamed hateful phrases at him, but actually invested the effort in hiding her notebook behind her back, before she snappishly returned to face him, eyes abounded with rage.

"What do you want?"

He sat down beside her, only to be awarded by the most menacing death glare up to point. Assembling the restraint not to betray his irritation, he asked politely. "What are you hiding?"

"What I'm hiding is none of your business, Lieben."

_Such impudence… _"Very well then. Regardless of what you're concealing from me, we need to discuss some very important issues at hand."

She snorted. "I agree. You're in dire need of a makeover. To think the royal rumored only inferior to Keith Alford's intellect would dress like a 1950s manikin."

This time, it was he who emanated the infamous death glare. "What are you implying."

"I'm implying exactly what I said. I've seen you on far too many occasions wearing the exact same winter scarf. In the name of Holy Nobel Michael, Joshua Lieben, can't you afford better accessories?"

He was horror-struck. Even in his mere twenty-four years, he could not recall a time when his conversational abilities were so...simply unappealing. If the royal family of a nation reflected trending pop-culture and values, then it was needless to deduct that the female population of Nerwan were unanimously superficial, and equally infuriating.

"Are you being serious?"

She faced him with an irrevocably straight expression. "I've never been more serious in my entire life."

_Oh in the name of- _"The wedding takes place at the end of the week. A maid will come to take your measurements within the hour." There. He smiled satisfactorily to himself, anticipating a stream of insults directed towards him any moment now.

Perhaps it was due to his quick expectations, or it was because he had become used to her sudden bursts of violence. For when her hand ventured to descend on his cheek, he had suspended it halfway, his eyes locked ferociously in hers, fingers tight around her wrist.

"What the hell is the matter with you?"

He didn't release her hand. "I'm simply acting in the favor of my people."

"Aren't I technically considered 'your people' as well? Why can't you think in my perspective for once?" she shook her head in disbelief, and Joshua couldn't help but feel a surge of pity for the princess.

"Yes. However, consider it a noble sacrifice for the greater good. By compromising, you're essentially saving thousands of _your people_ from meaningless deaths."

Her hand trembled in his hold. "What about my happiness? I never consented to any of this, and yet I'm the only one getting hurt." Joshua half expected her to cry; however, just like him, she registered as one who wouldn't shed tears, unless it was of her very last choice.

He couldn't prevent himself from saying. "You're not the only one."

"What do you mean?" she asked, the sharpness of her tone no longer prevalent. "I thought everything aside from the throne to you was irrelevant."

_Yeah, you're right. _"Irrelevant, yes." He responded, retracting his hand, and allowed her a moment to massage the markings he had planted on her skin.

"But irrelevance never justifies sentient. It's unimportant, but that doesn't mean that I don't feel." It wasn't until then that he realized the truth within his words. The truth he idealized in denial…they were real. Why hadn't he noticed it before? He turned away from her, gazing far into the stained glass windows, ones blurred with the crystallised steam that danced through the air. These roses, these life forces required humidity, and by an overwhelming, tyrannical rule of majority, he would have to endure the paining heat.

He could feel her eyes on him. "Careful Lieben, your feelings are showing."

"There's nothing wrong with that." She laughed of a less startling sound.

"I thought princes weren't supposed to show their weaknesses. What happened to 'if it has nothing to do with the throne, then it doesn't interest me'?" He frowned, turning back to her and encountering her rather dubious face.

"Weakness is a universal human quality, it has nothing to do with status." If it wasn't for the fact that his eyes were clouded with steam, he would have sworn that she smiled a little. Deciding he would rather wager the positive than the not, he attempted,

"About our marriage contract."

Her expression became coated with ice once more. "No. That's not going to happen."

He sighed. "I don't believe you have a say in the matter. The wedding will occur regardless of whether or not you consent to my request. But" he added before she could interrupt, "I don't intend to stay married to you for long. Just as soon as the rebellions die down, I'll restore their citizenships under the Nerwan flag and supply ministers to assist in rebuilding the nation."

She blinked. "Are you serious?"

"Yes, I mean it exactly as I say." he did a quick run-through of his former speech, one that nearly surrendered the heart of the Nerwans, "I don't expect your kingdom to yield to mine. Nerwan and Dres Van were originally, supposed to be two separate entities – the rules have dictated that for the past millennia. I have no desire to conquer your kingdom, but you should know that the way Leonardo lead your government was unacceptable. Besides," he toyed with his thumbs, "The Nerwns hate me."

Witnessing her reluctant consensus, he continued. "Of course, I can rebuild Nerwan without actually marrying you. But replacing your high officials with Dres Vaninan ministers at this point would just arise more controversy, and just lead to even wider rebellions, maybe even a revolution."

He analyzed her reaction: her features were blank, as if she lapsed into a faraway, surreal realm of watercolors and pastel brushstrokes. She looked hypnotized, alike the very foundations of her conscience expatriated, deceased into a realm of nothingness. She reminded Joshua of Prince Wilfred, during the tedious summits at Nobel Michael; or perhaps Prince Edward, moments before he would narrate speeches of the most absurd diction.

"I understand." She said.

He exhaled, feeling as if a powerful weight was lifted off his chest. He was about to say something when another slap landed across his features, the unexpected sound shattering the quiescence formerly known to Dres Van castle.

"What the hell was that for?" he bellowed, and watched as she rose off her seat, her amber eyes triumphant with glee.

"That, was for ineffectually explaining your plan, and for causing me unbearable grief for the past night or so." She paused, raised a finger to her chin and added, "Your butler's terrible, too, for being so vague in his responses."

"You have horrible mannerisms." _There, he finally said it._

To his dismay, she just smiled, her expression utterly, irretrievably indecipherable. "I have no incentive to act like a lady around you. I might see some enlightening points in your plan, but that doesn't mean I agree with it completely. Furthermore," she leaned towards him, the tendrils of her vibrant hair escaping her head, partially veiling her upturned lips. "Just because we're allies, Joshua Lieben, doesn't mean that we're friends."

He glared. "You're a difficult woman."

"Being a girl is more difficult than you think. Obviously you wouldn't know, considering your only companion is your butler, and a castle of staff, the most of which are surprisingly frightened of you." He gritted his teeth at her nonchalant tone, further aggravated by the careless way she twirled her hair around her fingers.

"That's none of my business. Excess interaction between myself and the help is strictly prohibited by the castle accords."

Silence once again succeeded between the two. The flowers before them shone in their bloom, their petals weighed, shivering evanescently with the drops of water they sustained. He couldn't see any source of daylight, but the lamps that dangled from the ceiling sufficed nonetheless. He inhaled heavily, his lungs filling with the warm, moist air of the greenhouse, and finally realized that after all this time, his hair had pasted repulsively on his forehead, devoid of its usual luster.

Then how did hers manage to retain is volume? He watched, perplexedly as she took a few steps forward, her eyes glued on the mutated roses, ones resembling tulips more so than their genetic ancestor.

"You don't strike me as the type to breed flowers." She said, her tone implying more of an enquiry than a casual wonderment.

"They were a gift from Prince Edward."

She implored with her eyes, "Prince Edward Levaincois, Crown Prince of Charles Kingdom?"

_She must have been imprisoned for quite a while in Nerwan castle if she was unfamiliar with the Levaincois Prince. _"Yes. He seems to have quite the interest in roses."

She touched her finger gently to a nearby petal, a serene aura mystically encasing her being. From his point of view, Princess Stephanie drew a faint parallel with the last sight of Joshua's own mother – they even possessed the same taste in fashion, both clothed in gowns of the deepest crimson. Or was it maroon? He couldn't tell the difference.

"But these roses, they're different."

He nodded, then realizing she hadn't noticed, he vocalized his thoughts instead. "The Charles scientists introduced a new genetic variant of roses, and implanted them into the-"

She shot another threatening glance at him. "Don't explain. That's not what I'm asking."

He narrowed his eyes irately. "Are you always this ambiguous?"

"Ambiguous?" she said, rather incredulously. "Are you questioning me, Lieben? I will have you know, that unlike your beloved books on conduct and public policy, I'm not confined by heavy covers and rancid yellow pages."

She straightened her back, presenting Joshua with a full-on, regal view of the sole heiress to the throne of Nerwan. Her words rang clear, every syllable elucidated with majesty that he had only observed in the presence of his father.

"I can be absolutely anything."

Joshua wanted to say something. She probably detected his motive, for she turned forcefully away and scurried towards the exit, the long, ostentatious trails of her gown fluttering effervescently behind her erratic footsteps. He sighed, exhausted by the senseless discussion that just transpired between the two. If he had known that conversing with her would drain him so, then perhaps he would have never dared enter the greenhouse in the first place.

He was on the verge of shutting his lashes when her voice echoed, lighting a sudden beacon of hope in the bleak outlook painted across his mind. His eyes shot open, searching for the origin of her high soprano, only to land his gaze on the abandoned notebook, ominous upon the stone beside him.

"I'll marry you." She had said, the remnants of her message still resonating through space as he picked up the patented leather, and curiously flipped through the pages.

"Only until you restore Nerwan to its prosperity." His heart stopped.

Jackpot.

**Chapter IV**

His fingers stiffened around the newspaper he held, profusely annoyed at Jan's effronteries.

The prince's aversions were, in the most dramatically literal sense of the word, uncommon. It usually required extraneous effort to capture Joshua's attention, especially when he was fatally engaged in his morning newspaper sessions. The outcome one would expect, was where he would brusquely ignore any sort of divergence presented his way by gluing his eyes with inordinate stringency upon the last day's news, as if a child deprived of sugar and just discovered a secret pile in the cupboards.

It was surely miraculous that Joshua not only noticed their banter, but also assembled a surplus of annoyance that liquefied his cold, marble exterior. The food in his plate had remained untouched – just like any other morning, where whilst Dres Van castle hustled in their exuberant activities, the prince retained his tranquility, his untamed muteness.

Perhaps even the dullest of minds, even those most depleted of ripe imaginations were rendered capable of observing the ephemeral change within the manse. However, as every epic narrative should theatrically establish, our main cast maintains their lovable ignorance to those illumined for the audience. Though, I beg you not to fret, for it is exactly this malaise of subjective blindness that transfers us into the richness of an imperishable love. A love that shall thrives even under the most turbulent circumstances, that shall endure through even the most violent, merciless of oceans.

Or, as the title of this piece compels, a love that _cannot be denied._

Jan's impenetrable smile was consistent as he poured her another class of wine, his choreographed movements faultless. The lush liquids spilled into her transparent glass, a waterfall of felicitous crimson that barely settled stable before she lifted the vial to her lips, tilting her head back in a graceful whip. In contrast to the darkening beverage she consumed, her hair appeared of a lighter, more innately gravitating shade – the fires and gold of autumn, the colors of vegetation following their august prime, and welcoming their twilight years. Those maddening curls of hers were his perpetual curiosity: they weren't particularly monumental, like Prince Leonardo, whose hair literally mirrored medieval bronze, or like the triumphed armor of Diomedes by the dying hands of Glaucus. Hers, in contrast were more potent, bordering maroon more than orange. However, sometimes the two appearances would conflate into one of a furious flame, one that ignited her entire being in a mirage of glorious fire.

Much to his discontent, she didn't appear to notice his concentrated gaze as she descended her fingers once again on the portfolio before her, scanning avidly its various pictures and captions. Jan, on the other hand watched her movements, his disposition emanating the most neutral aura Joshua could possibly envision. They were of perfect discrepancy: the versatile against the serene, or the flattened and framed against the creatively adroit. If Joshua was as much of an artist as Prince Edward, he would have likely desired to illustrate that moment. Of course, that being said, he would have to concede with his combating emotions first, especially his now bubbling irritation.

Breakfast was said to be the most imperative meal of the day. Joshua knew that, but somehow, he just couldn't bring himself lift his utensils. The more he witnessed her nonchalant demeanor, the more his appetite declined, eventually reaching a desert of nausea that consumed his throat, and as collateral damage, numbed his intelligence.

"Please stop," he demanded, "I can't concentrate on my papers."

She glanced at him from under her lashes, a sight that Joshua still couldn't distinguish with lingering flirtations or demeaning challenges. Jan, on the other hand, appeared utterly at ease; in fact, a victorious smirk hovered about his mouth as he surveyed the two, practically radiating impetuous glee.

"Then why don't you go somewhere else? It's not like you've touched your food since your arrival." She countered, causing him to scowl. He raised his papers higher into the air, a rather ingenuous attempt to detach her face from voice. Satisfied with his now restricted line of vision, he spoke once more:

"Reading and eating at the same time increases my efficiency. This is so that I'm adequately caught up with national inquiries while ruling over my people." He stole a short look to his food, and realized in disgust that they hardened over the past few minutes. "Unlike you, I don't have the time to look at dress catalogs and fashion magazines."

A moment of silence lapsed, leading Joshua to deploy his thoughts into the arrangement, that she might have been angered at his statement. Good, he thought exultantly, _that was the point, it was supposed to be interpreted as an insult._

"No." she was calmer than he expected – _her voice_, that is. "I'm not looking at fashion magazines, I'm looking at wedding dress designs. Which, might I add is for the sake of _our wedding, _my future-husband-to-be."

He grimaced, still not yielding his arms, despite the now emerging wariness of his muscles. "Those insignificant details are the designations of maids and butlers. I don't understand why you're fretting over them."

The faint shuffling of pages stopped, disavowing Joshua's exasperation at the hurried noises that stained his hearing. Though, to tell the truth, any sort of sentiment that engulfed him at this point was likely arbitrary. He had been lacking sleep, trying to keep at pace with the swarming questions of the princes, and on less frequent occasions, Lord Michael himself. Their constant pestering impeded his reason; though, through some fantastic persuasions and a few wrathful coercions, he had managed to secrete the nature of her identity from his comrades. This, should by all means inspire a peaceful week, but would also inevitably flare up a most tumultuous gathering at the next summit.

"ButYour Highness." This time, it was Jan who had spoken up. "This wedding ceremony should reflect Her Highness Stephanie's happiness as she marries into the Lieben royal house. I believe it is highly necessary that she monitors the ceremony so that it sufficiently meets her standards."

"Wow Lieben. Have you ever realized that your butler's actually the man of the house?" His brows shot up in fury, his anger propelling him to slam his newspaper on the grand dining table, the flaccid, ink-replete sheets partially concealing his breakfast.

"W-what did you just say to me?!" her eyes widened at his tone, not of fear but of awe.

"Oh my, why are you blushing?" He immediately shrunk down in his seat, shooting intangible daggers in Jan, who if hadn't been under strict supervision would have buckled over in amusement. She snorted at the idiocy he anchored, the momentary seriousness within the manse dissipating at her docile, phantom-like smile.

Out of all his senses, humiliation submerged from his lips as he yelled, shrinking lower so that only his eyebrows recalled their perceptibility across the dining table. He looked as if a disproportioned dwarf, or an just an infant with an unusually grandiose head-

"I-I'm not blushing!" are spontaneous denials identified as lies? Joshua believed the negative. He remembered from a fable he had read as a child, that sometimes 'seeing, is believing'. Although he liked the notion, it negligibly allied pessimism by nullifying, restraining sight only to the extents of observances. It wasn't exactly what a mentally fettled person should adopt as a personal philosophy; but for the prince, inexorably in that very moment deluded immense relief, enough so that the fragility of his ego remained blissfully unharmed.

"Uh," she arched one brow, and scooted forward in her seat to. Joshua could see her suspicious expression. "Are you alright? I thought Dres Van princes aren't allowed to act like spoiled children, especially when they're expecting a bride within the next six days or so."

He was about to retort when she swiftly shot up from her chair, her eyes glimmering with rapid-fire scintillations that outshone Helios' brilliance. As if suddenly recalling something of an indispensable nature, she turned to Jan, who received her enquiry with earnest modesty. "Jan, how quickly can the royal seamstress make a wedding dress from scratch? If we only have six days, doesn't it kind of put us in a dangerous position?"

Joshua fluttered his lashes towards Jan, and grasped his fingers over the side of the table for balance – he looked like a voyeur. "Do not worry, Princess." His butler courteously replied, "We have more than a dozen seamstresses on standby, so once Your Highness decides on a design, I'm sure they'll have it completed before the day is done."

She blinked. "Wow, the Liebens are really sparing no expense for this make-belief marriage, aren't they?"

Jan laughed, and heartily raising his hand over his heart, evoking within Joshua a sense of disgruntled repugnance. "Compared to the proposed costs of originally subsidizing the Nerwan civilians, we're actually reducing royal expenditures by more than 53%. So don't hesitate to select to your heart's content, my lady, for you're doing Dres Van a favor that we could never fully repay."

She didn't respond, but instead stared at him for a lengthy interval, her posture as immobile as Galatea, moments before Venus bestowed upon her the divine gift of life. Joshua sighed, his breath cool against the velvet tablecloth – to achieve Jan's echelon of elegance and gallantry seemed practically inconceivable, if not utterly impossible. There had, since he could consciously remember been an ineffable dichotomy between the two: while he appraised with austere laws and enlivened himself in political discussions, Jan had always been the one who held an uncanny appreciation for the arts. Ever since he was at the blossoming age of six, he had, when he wasn't accompanying Joshua in his lonesome hours taken an interest towards the cello. After years and years of surreptitious practicing, his talents had heightened towards that of a prodigy, his hitherto scrawniness as a child replaced with elongated, lilt limbs that plagued any woman to cross his path with desperate screams and the somewhat sporadic 'swoon'.

Joshua had been long accustomed to Jan's superior popularity, to the point where his 'fangirls' were completely invisible to him. At first, he admitted he had been envious, for he had always regarded himself one more prominent in the dimension of physical appeal. Although Jan possessed irradiated eyes of the finest lapis lazuli, and his body felicitously rationed, he nevertheless exuded an air that marked him as unapproachable, like such an immaculate being should not exist on earth's deplorable surface. Joshua was the one more human, even if he was of a questionable archetype.

However, the very prospect of his fiancée preferred Jan's company to his own breathed in his heart an ethereal tugging sensation, one that would often develop when he speculated imbalance. Despite the fact that their interests were at odds, they were still, technically 'allies'; she had said those words herself. Shouldn't she show at some respect, or at least resonate some sort of inclusion towards the man, the prince was the sole determinant of her country's fate?

He clouded his discontent with his fierce insouciance, finally deciding to sample his breakfast as he somnambulistically raised a fork to his mouth, his eyes unwavering, as if inundated in a melodic trance…

"…" he nearly choked to death. Whatever mischiefs his chief was managing, he was definitely not going to make it through the end of the month.

"Uh, are you alright?" he met her slightly apprehensive eyes, though the ironic grin on her rosy lips indicated otherwise.

He ignored her imploration. "Jan", he commanded, and Jan turned to face him, his features expectant. "Fire the head chef at once. If this is the type of food he's catering at the actual wedding, then it's inarguable that he'll destroy Dres Van's reputation overnight. Locate the one at Liberty manse at once and book him for the next week- No, see if he's seeking a pay raise, and offer him anything that would call him to the castle."

Jan bowed in consent. The Nerwanese princess, on the other hand beheld a portrait of disparagement, "Why, I had no idea you were such an expert food critic, _Your Highness." _She hissed, furrowing her delicate brows in mock horror. "I didn't even know someone of such prestigious breeding as yourself would bother to cook his own meals."

_What? _"I don't cook my own meals. That's the chef's job. It's the whole point of paying him a salary."

She snorted. "Then don't you think it's slightly hypocritical for you to criticize his cooking when you're completely inept at it yourself?"

"No. It's my right as the paying consumer that I analyze the quality of the services I receive." Jan stifled a chuckle, his finger flying to mask the smirk planted across his face. Joshua shot him an irritated glare, prompting him to hold his other hand up in defeat.

Sighing, she responded, "No wonder your staff hates you. You're completely inconsiderate of their feelings."

"Feelings are irrelevant to work quality."

Her head snapped up. "That's not true. Passions anchor quality, which is exactly what separates the mediocre from the truly exceptional. You can't possible expect someone to do their jobs well when they're constantly put down because they're not the 'objective best'."

_What was she talking about?_ He lowered his head, suddenly intensely interested in the elaborate floral patterns of his porcelain plate. To his gratitude, she didn't continue, and neither did he, for he had finally encountered his worst nightmare: someone other than Prince Keith Alford was able to hold his position against him in debate. Although, unlike the unbearably haughty Libertian prince, Princess Stephanie didn't exhibit the same malignant smugness and detestable pleasure from dominating him in oration. She merely lapsed into silence, as if their brief disagreement had not manifested in the first place…

His trail of thought was interrupted as she stood up from her chair. He watched as she beckoned softly towards Jan, who crept forward and permitted her to whisper – in proximity – in his ear, before nodding curtly and striding off into the castle corridors. Joshua was flabbergasted. He could not fathom, let alone comprehend how the two had established such a solid relationship under such short notice, especially when he had been present during most, if not all their consultations. He felt somewhat catastrophic. He knew that his hostility was what catalysed his alienation. However, to witness its aftermaths firsthand was needlessly cruel, even if the princess despised him to no avail.

"I'm going back to my room." she said as she began to leave, but not before she turned back with warm eyes and a slightly, just slightly less antagonistic smile.

"You should eat breakfast. I don't want the entire world to think that I'm marrying a guy who can't even afford a good night's sleep."

She didn't look back as she vanished behind the intricate doors of the grand dining hall. Unlike that of Nerwan castle, Dres Van castle's furnishings were adorned with the most splendidly sculpted carnations, an ebullient portrayal of their national flower. Joshua blinked, a couple times in rapid succession before he fully absorbed her missive.

Warmth. There was incipient, foreign warmth that swarmed through his heart as her footsteps evaporated, deep into the depths of Dres Van manor.

Joshua sat near his window, and watched with trepidation the flooding waters in their heavenly descent, as if they threatened to empty the skies of their iridescent tears. There was an innate regality, stateliness of clouds as they consumed the looming grey skies, one befitting the grandeur of Dres Van manor in its unsurpassed majesty. Waters cascaded, cascaded as if they were faultless, and contained only sins.

He leaned his head against the glass, pressing his amethyst bangs upon the stained glass and relished in the cold that revitalized his being. His shoulders trembled; but he ignored the sensation as he glided his fingers across the glossy leather of her notebook, which, after a few evanescent glances, revealed to be her diary, an outlet she seldom visited except for the most turbulent of times. Now, actually venturing in its contents would prove hazardous to his moral standards; however, he just couldn't shake his curiosity out of his head – what if she knew of Nerwan's most profound secrets, and were secretly recording them behind Leonardo's back? Or, even better, what if she was a political mastermind and fostered solutions to his current predicament? He knew that his presumptions nature often tampered with his deductive abilities, but the idea of discovering another _royal's _personal diary presented a colossal temptation that he just couldn't simply forsake.

His fingers faintly quivered as he touched the leather embroidery that secured the pages together. Would he be deemed unscrupulous if he divulged in her secrets?

The Dres Vanian royal accords, Statue IV, chapter XVII dictated that members of the royal family cannot converse nor meet with their designated marital candidates for a month before the wedding ceremony. This was an ancient regulation that was often disbanded by the previous generations, including Prince Joshua's parents. However, the lines dulled in their case – their passions were of such an unsurpassed intensity, that Joshua knew they would have eloped in their exact manner regardless of the Accords. He always harbored conflating emotions regarding the issue: he admired his father for his valor in pursuing the woman of his dreams, and he definitely respected his mother's resilience when she had encountered public opposition. However, he just couldn't shake the idea of marrying a woman of lower standards out of his head. His father was a wise man, but the temptation that he had failed to withstand was unacceptable for his tastes.

Fortunately, his bride was in equal social standing as he was, albeit the fact that her kingdom had been ruthlessly swallowed by his own. Though, he wasn't too thrilled about the quality of their relationship up to point. For the past couple days, the _only _sorts of interaction he had received from her was the occasional greeting or sarcastic comment when they brushed by one another within the castle corridors; followed by the looming tension that permeated the air every morning at the breakfast table. Even those were much infrequent occurrences. The rest of her time had been spent with Jan, discussing animatedly the details of their nearing wedding, which somehow induced Joshua to wonder who her preferred fiancé was – him or his butler of questionable virtue.

There were approximately two day left before their departure to Nobel Michael. Accounting in the time required for travel, adequate preparations and informal greetings with the guests, there was but a three day interval between the present and the day of the grand ceremony. The Lieben house wasted no expense – the budget for just their main service alone tripled that of his parents', and the costs for the reception…were unthinkable. Nonetheless, he was still thankful, for if he had agreed with his original portfolio for the event, they would have depleted their entire national budget just for the sake of equalization alone.

Also fortunately, Princess Stephanie appeared to possess an uncanny talent for organization and discipline. Having been in the castle for four days, his staff had already grown to venerate her, treating her with equal respect as they did the prince himself. They quickly struck up a steady link of cooperation, which made the preparations flow much more fluently than Joshua had anticipated. Despite the fact that he disagreed with her latently lenient manner with his servants, he appreciated the efforts and efficiencies she devoted into his cause. For expectedly, he despised with a burning passion anything that consisted of…flowers and forged handwriting.

He wasn't opposed to the silence that surrounded him. It made him feel at home. It made him feel safe, as if nobody could reach him under that hardcased chrysalis he constructed around his heart. He was long accustomed to this sort of idleness…

His head darted up in confusion. He had never developed such thoughts before. Joshua had always acknowledged his solitude as a mere fact, something that he buried deep and doted on only when in serious lapses of weakness. Something he had never before done was solicit his isolation, or sought out refuge in justifying its origins. Now, not only did those supressed emotions unearth and perplex his mind, but they also credited him with a special sort of longing, a longing that in spite of his desires persisted in anonymity.

He sighed. _What was the matter with him…_

Something subtle, undetectable but nevertheless powerful had occurred. It made him small, uncertain, and unsure of his belongings, but for the life of him, he couldn't pinpoint it to any viable source. His heart was heaved sore, and his head ached, fragile to its core. He didn't, couldn't know why, nor could he ascertain why sometimes, he caught himself humming a strange melody. One harmonious, but terribly out of character.

He shook his head, desperate to rid this nebulous feeling that prevailed his mind. In a moment of distraction, he opened her diary and fixated his eyes upon her smooth, undaunted handwriting – it dispensed this air of childish nativity in its rigid edges; however, it was nonetheless appealing, and reminded Joshua faintly of the picturesque imagine of Nerwan castle. Her handwriting crystallized its essence: the girl to her land, a trait that suited a becoming princess.

As he concentrated on her individual words and phrases, his confusion of her character augmented. Her diary contained flow – there was no patterned sequence, only her most primitive trails of thoughts, poured and transformed into the form of curly letters. There were various accounts of her childhood, how she had always looked up to Leonardo, who was a perfectionist at best, and a pretentious snob at the very least. She seemed to worship him, even though in many places of her narrative, he was depicted as Machiavellian, cold and very much uncaring towards her feelings.

…

He soon grew impatient of her redundant complaints of adolescence, and flipped to her most recent entries, ones documented after her arrival at Dres Van manor. The orchestral November winds swirled with imposing vigor, their indignant roars indifferent to the arc that solidified between Joshua's brows. Expectedly, she only recorded two instances:

_Dear diary, _she had written;

_Something's different. Something has changed within the past couple weeks. Leo had disappeared, and is nowhere to be found. The messenger who I sent out to search of his whereabouts returned with only his watch, smeared with blood. Our ministers have speculated that he died in a fire, but why don't I feel the same way? Am I simply in denial, or is it that sibling-bond of ours that's telling me something? Does it make me a bad person for not mourning over my brother-_

Joshua gulped, a gesture of balanced relief and disbelief. Leonardo wouldn't have perished so easily, for in death, one becomes more invisible, which is definitely beneficial to his clause.

_ Nerwan finally, after centuries of wars with Dres Van became one of their colonies. Our kingdom was in turmoil, but why hadn't I, as their princess noticed? _

_ Ha. I need to get out more._

_ Joshua Lieben, the perpetrator that had ruined my kingdom visited me today, with his butler, Jan. I know I should probably elaborate on the prince of Dres Van, but I can't shake off the feeling that I've seen Jan somewhere before. Not that it really matters, since he's the steward of the most hated man on the planet, but was he a friend of Leo's? I remember, that before my brother became obsessed with the idea of conquering Dres Van-_

Conquering Dres Van? Joshua released an involuntary scoff, mocking to his own content Leonardo's delusional ambitions.

_ …that before my brother became obsessed with the idea of conquering Dres Van, he often referred to a man named Jan. Or was it Jean? James? It could be any one of the three. Either way, Jan looked familiar, but somehow I can't be sure. Maybe I was too young to remember the specifics. _

…

Joshua had no comment to that.

_ Anyway, I'm currently in Dres Van castle, under the surveillance of several maids, and probably some guards outside my door. Oh right, so as I was saying, Joshua Lieben came to my home, directly after my afternoon bath. Curse him for his terrible timing. _

Wasn't she the one who invited him in her chambers while incredibly ill-dressed? How was it his fault that she had wronged him?

_This boy-_

Man, he corrected with fury.

_This _man_, proposed the idea of a treaty between Nerwan and Dres Van, in the name of protecting the welfare of the Nerwan citizens. Does he take me for some idiot? I can't believe he actually tried to euphemize his desire to completely consume Nerwan with some petty excuse of 'national well-being'. I mean, granted that if I cooperate with him, the unsettlements at the eastern borders shall settle without question, but still, why should I consent to something that I can very much accomplish on my own? I should have slapped him more when I had the chance._

What?! Oh in the name of Holy Nobel Michael-

_But I made a mistake. He called me indifferent to my people, which angered me greatly. You have no idea how much I wanted to yell at him at that moment. I even wanted to cry, but there was no way in hell that I was going to show him any sort of vulnerability. So I agreed, agreed with his so called 'master plan' and came with him to Dres Van castle. That was stupid. I shouldn't have done that._

_ Though, after I contemplated it on hindsight for a couple hours, I realized that I did choose the optimum strategy. If I did lash out on him and opposed him completely, judging by his hotheadedness, he probably would have initiated war on Nerwan. Ironically, he'd be doing so on one of his most powerful colonies, which is in all honesty, the stupidest thing a ruler can ever do._

Oh, so she does possess some common sense.

_I'm still skeptical of how he wants to carry out his plan, though. If he wanted me to hold a press conference, wouldn't it have been much more effective for me to conduct one at Nerwan, instead of bringing me all the way to Dres Van? I get the cultural barriers impact and all, but for the long-time sake of being neighboring countries, doesn't he know that most of Nerwans are completely ignorant of the fact that Prince Leonardo has a sister? I'm the equivalent of Catherine Alford. Not many are granted the opportunity to see my face, unless they're a minster of parliament, or some high official near my father…_

Joshua gritted his teeth in frustration. Had he just initialized the most ridiculous plan ever known to the prestigious Liebens? Furthermore, if nobody had ever witnessed, or even been in the presence of the Nerwan princess, then he really did have no motive to marry her. Not anymore.

His writhing dilemma was soothed dramatically by her next words:

_Though I do bear significant similar ties with my brother, so I guess it shouldn't be that difficult to convince the public of my existence. _

That was the end of the first entry. With vehemently combating emotions, Joshua switched to the next page, the force he employed with his fingers almost threatening to rip her pages apart.

_Dear Diary._

_ Joshua Lieben is a complete jackass, but he does raise some pretty flowers. Just what the hell is the matter with this guy? To think that he has the audacity to kidnap me, not to mention make me an illegal passenger who's stuck in the boundaries of Dres Van until who knows when. To think that an appalling human being like this would grow some of the most beautiful roses I've ever seen…or are they roses? They seem to resemble tulips more. But wait, wasn't the national flower of Dres Van supposed to be carnations? Then why on earth is he growing roses?_

_ That's irrelevant. The point is, he asked me to marry him – or rather, Jan asked me to marry him. No, he didn't even go as far as ask for my permission, all he said was 'Prince Joshua would like you to become his bride'. What the hell? Are all Dres Vaninan men like this? I seriously fear for the future of this country if this family continues to rule. I mean, does he actually expect me to say yes? _

…Joshua promptly decided that she was not worth talking to.

_ I see where he's coming from, nonetheless. If I married into the Lieben family, then the Nerwans would have a large enough incentive to join forces with Dres Van as well, considering that they've lost their last royal to the Dres Vanian flag. It's understandable, but doesn't he realize what psychological torture he'll subject my people to if he actually goes through with this plan-_

Her words ended. Joshua pondered over her last statement: psychological torture. He understood her predicament, for to have one's one last, lingering sense of hope abolished, and emptying one as a worthless vessel was a daunting scheme. However, desperate times called for desperate measures. Had he another choice?

The skies were vacated of vivacity in their protruding greyness, taunting Dres Van's landscapes with their ceaseless woebegone cries. The rain was a crystal veil, one that obscured, blurred Joshua's vision of his own kingdom, limiting it to the colorless pale grounds beneath his window, their patterns rigid, contrasting against the overwhelming fluidity of the heavens. Even the most imaginatively impoverished would gasp at the brilliance of the weather; however, the amethyst-haired prince just wasn't in the mood to lament over nature.

His thoughts were interrupted with an abrupt click of his door, followed by Jan's rhythmic footsteps and perfect composure.

"Your Highness" he said, "Sorry to intrude, but did you happen to see a small journal, about palm size and decorated with wisteria?" although his question was of an explorative tone, Jan's eyes had already traversed blatantly to Joshua's hands.

He sighed, and closed the pages with a soft snap before striding over to Jan and depositing the item. His stewarded nodded, his expression just as indecipherable as it would eternally persevere. "Thank you, Your Highness. Her Highness Stephanie was very much concerned with its whereabouts."

He bowed, and turned his back towards Joshua. The dim afternoon lights casted upon his back a solemn mezzotint, one that meted a foreboding silence prior to the happenings of a monstrous storm…

"Jan." the prince had said, to which _his steward backglanced curiously, his wisterian eyes shining. _

"Yes, Your Highness?" he asked.

…

"Nothing. Remember to wear something nice to the wedding."

The prince pursed his lips as he watched Jan slip soundlessly out the door.

Was he pushing him to be someone else?

Was the end, _his end_ right or wrong?

Could anyone ever inform him of the answer? His fists clenched together, but at last, his disappointment didn't metabolize words.

…

The rain wouldn't stop, not for a long time.

**Chapter V **

"Geez, how long is Joshy-poo going to take with his bride?" Roberto pouted, his fingers flying to the constraining collar of his crimson royal jacket. He was just about to loosen its tediously intricate buttons when he received a menacing glare from the Altarian High-Steward, eliciting a shiver from the prince as he retracted his mischievous arm.

"Who knows. Maybe this entire ceremony is just a decoy. After all, it occurred way too soon, especially since Prince Joshua isn't normally interested in women." Ah, Prince Glenn, the eternal optimist sat beside Roberto with a dubious expression about his Oriensian features, his tone skeptical, but at the same time consisting of a viable wisdom unbefitting his mere eighteen years of age. His demeanor grew in impassivity as Roberto pouted at his statement, his rather subtle discontent tantamount to the externalized displeasure of the haughty Libertian prince.

"I agree. Who does Prince Joshua think he is, summoning us only with a week's notice. Such impudence is simply unacceptable of his social standing." Keith huffed out his cheeks, his Caribbean-green eyes astonishingly ferocious as he leaned against the stoned grandeur of Nobel Michael's interior. It wasn't that Keith fostered any particular grudge against the Dres Vaninan prince – his disgruntlement related more to the anonymity of Joshua's bride. For even in his brief yet remarkably efficient invitation, Joshua hadn't bothered to gift his fiancée with any indication of identity.

Roberto whistled impishly, prompting Alberto to arc his brow in warning. "I wouldn't be that surprised. Maybe Joshua has fallen head-over-heels with this girl and just couldn't wait to marry her!"

"…I thought Prince Joshua was into men…" Prince Edward, in his religious elegance had just raised a cup of tea to his lips when Prince Wilfred uncharacteristically stunned him with his words, causing the former to spit out his drink in a theatrical sprinkle across Prince Keith's face. The Libertian prince absorbed a moment of ineffable shock, blinking rapidly in succession for a few pregnant seconds before he shot up from his seat, patent fury igniting his sharp features.

"What the hell was that, Prince Edward?!" _Oh crap._ The man in question combed his lissome fingers absently through his fine silver gossamers, and smiled apologetically to Keith's rising fury.

"I'm terribly sorry, Prince Keith. Prince Wilfred statement was so unexpected that I couldn't help myself. Pray forgive me." Keith scoffed, but appeared less formidable as he beckoned over his butler. Luke scurried over with an earnest expression, as if eager to be puppeteered by his indignant master.

"Take me to the changing room, I need to change before the ceremony starts. I would gravely embarrass my kingdom if I was to show up in front of thousands of press members like an incompetent brat." Luke nodded, and directed Keith out of their meeting room, abandoning the princes in their supressed laughter. Prince Wilfred was the sole exception, and in his solitude he manifested confusion, his pale sapphire eyes faltering as Prince Keith disappeared through the door.

"It wasn't supposed to be a joke..." his susurrus was made hollow by the enveloping splendor of majestic Nobel Michael.

"Your Highness, you look absolutely stunning."

She smiled subtly at her impeccable reflection, her amber eyes serene, almost akin to a truly ecstatic bride instead of a princess who was compelled into a marriage, which was, when stripped of all complications was a euphemism for a political compromise. Either way, she wasn't expected to remain that detestable Lieben's princess for long, for the moment the quandaries of her citizens would tranquilize, she would dismantle her contract with Dres Van and return to her kingdom as the sovereign. Even in her unexperienced age and maladroitness, she was certain that she would be superior to Joshua in her capabilities of directing her kingdom – at the very least, she wasn't widely despised, nor was she so completely ignorant of public relations to initiate a speed-marriage with a royal who seldom appeared in civilian eye.

"Thank you." She said, and her maid bowed courteously before vanishing outside the door.

And then, there was one.

She propped her head on her slim arms, scrutinizing with care her desensitized face, creamed with immaculate powered of the most unadulterated beige. They ridded her cheeks of color, of the rosy penumbras she so typically prided herself in.

Her entire family, including the most realistic paintings of her ancestors possessed an uncanny bloodlessness, as if they were of some mystic subspecies rather than grossly human. She, on the other hand was the opposite. Was that why her family chose to conceal her existence from the rest of the world? She couldn't be sure.

Though, she was mildly impressed with the efficiency touched upon the wedding. It took but one week for them to achieve such impressive heights – endless rows of efflorescent roses ornamented the pale gold corridors, adorned with intervals of her national flower, the subtle demureness of winter wisteria. The air around her was perfumed with ethereal aromas of rich Charles wine, the scents so alluring that her mouth involuntarily watered. Countless attendants, all dressed impeccably had escorted their party to Nobel Michael, some of them she hadn't even seen, and she had been so certain that she explored every last corner of Dres Van manor…

However, the most unconceivable factor of this bizarre happening was the sheer radiance of her wedding dress. After days of browsing through Altarian catalogs and immense volumes of coffee, she had finally thrown her hands up in defeat. That was when – to her disbelief – Joshua's butler, Jan stepped in, suggesting that she designed her dress herself. There was but forty-eight hours until they were to depart for the Holy Grounds.

She gritted her teeth, and in a moment of historically unprecedented madness, she agreed to carry out his more than insane strategy. That night, she received not a minute of sleep as she worked over her desk, sketching like a madwoman her trimmings and linings until she was satisfied with her development…

He was breathless.

For some unknown, indecipherable reason, Prince Joshua Lieben, the man who had vanquished Nerwan in a war of unbelievable intensity was for once in his life, rendered breathless beyond repair. He couldn't think. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't sort out the entangled threads of his consciousness as he leaned against the broad marble door of her dressing room, his amethyst eyes replete of uncertainty.

Repentance was a concept foreign to the fierce-featured prince. The end justified the means – that was his motto. It may appear morally deplorable to some; however, to sin for the sake of the greater good tolls upon the perpetrator more so than the impartial. For, it is them that endure tortuous guilt, them that must survive their own benevolence. He hadn't noticed it before, but one some distant level, he genuinely…regretted.

For what?

He had been so sure, so unwaveringly, irrevocably sure that this is what he wanted – to utilize marriage as a means of gain, to revive Dres Van as a respectable kingdom with Nerwan under its wing. He would regime supreme, and arrive unparalleled glory for his country, for the esteemed house of Lieben for centuries to persist.

Wasn't that what he desired? Wasn't this very dilemma what prevailed in his nightmares for months now?

He was so close to his goal. So, so close. Yet, somehow, he couldn't assemble even a tinge of happiness.

Why was that? He couldn't discern as he looked down to the ground. It wasn't anything lyrical, no. He felt…insecure? No. Forlornness? That was perhaps closer – he felt exhausted, fatigued by the nature of this marriage.

Was this one of those last minute compunctions? Was he going to disband his master-plan when he was so close to its fruit?

…

He sighed, his pale wisterian bangs masking the ominousness of his expression. His royal gardrobes had been pristinely pressed, and now smelled of conflating fruit and…the central springs, the enchanted waters of Nobel Michael.

Joshua Lieben had always been handsome, but today, he appeared absolutely extraordinary. Ironic really, considering he lacked a motive to dress to the nines.

Well, not entirely. He did have a motive, it just wasn't personal enough to dissipate the dissonance that resonated within his heart. If he was indeed marrying a girl for whom he fostered sincere affections, then perhaps he wouldn't feel this last-minute woebegone sensation. He sighed for a moment, then chuckled at his now redundant, and slightly pathetic release of contriteness. After all this time, all those wordless oaths he had taken to imbibe his lingering doubts now proved entirely unnecessary, despite the fact that his dubiousness was completely understandable.

Anyone would be nervous in such a situation, and Prince Joshua was no exception.

He painfully elevated his hands to the door, and knocked trice, all the while mustering herculean effort to assume his usual stoic, impassive expression. Much to his dismay, his lips curled up more into a dreary grimace rather than something horizontally regal.

"Come in." she announced, but he didn't immediately open the door. Instead, he rested his palm sluggishly upon the polished knob, suddenly profusely drawn to intricacies embedded on the marble frame.

Nobel Michael Castle, as he knew was perhaps one of the most miraculous architectural creations the world had ever seen. Just the costs of constructing one of these rooms could possibly empty a peasant their entire life-savings, not to mention that the luminous chandeliers that torqued the high ceilings were made entirely of crystal. Joshua might have been Crown Prince of Dres Van, but in terms of economic prowess and financial competence, his trivial existence was no match for Lord Michael XIII.

"Is anybody out there?" she enquired, her short cavatina louder, less displaced to his location. Sighing for, I now disclose, the last time ever in his lifetime, Joshua entered her room, his eyes locked stringently on the lush Charles carpets as he clicked the door shut behind him.

The diaphanous rays of the sun glittered against the marble grounds, arising a sense of divine insouciance, a celestial, golden languor that nearly blinded the reluctant Prince. He couldn't determine exactly when the rain had stopped, for they were showered relentlessly during their parade to the castle grounds. Somehow, nature turned in his favor. However, even so, he felt strangely heavy, his every limb locked, frozen in place, tired by some intangible force to the grounds below him.

The sun augmented in brilliance. He squinted, still not willing to meet her eyes, fearing that his guilt shall once again resurface.

"Since your father won't be present, I shall be the one escorting you down the aisle. This wedding will occur differently than what you're probably accustomed to." He said, his voice alienated from any sort of worldly sentient.

"That seems fair. What about your parents? Am I not required to greet them prior to the ceremony?" her steady footsteps approached him, her elongated shadow amorphous against the maroon carpets, a beguiling shade that reminded him hazily of her gown that day in the greenhouse. His caprice thoughts dwindled in concentration, prompting him to finally raise his head, vacating momentarily his timidities…

"They'll arrive at-" he stopped.

He couldn't continue.

Not for the life of him.

For that was the first time.

The very first time that he saw her. Not an ambiguous or hostile scan of her wardrobe, nor a calculating glance stolen for the sake of analysis.

It was unlike their first encounter. He didn't see the luxurious mirrors and armchairs that rounded her dressing room, nor did he see the haggard decorations infused of Nerwan Castle.

He saw her, and her only.

It was as if the background shades all dissolved into vague, indistinct pastels, coalescing desultorily into evanescence.

Everything within his vision became detached, inconsistent filaments of transparency; everything became incorporeal, everything except her.

He could see.

Her.

In her unrivalled brilliance.

He finally saw.

Why hadn't he noticed before? Her curls were the color of fire, now crystallized at the top of her head in a stylish bun, secured flawlessly with a diamond circle that illuminated the atmosphere with a heavenly grace. Few roughish strands escaped, and dropped in spinning stasis onto the well-defined curve of her shoulder, her collarbone, which by the morning light rendered a fetching chiaroscuro, one of the finest impressionist artistry. He had known that she was slim, but he had never truly realized how beautifully proportioned she was – and all in the _right places. _

Her features were docile, not as boldly gorgeous as the Renaissance statues that garlanded the gardens of Nobel Michael, but were more of a…bird-like quality? Her sharp cheekbones, on the other hand appeared softer, creamer, alike something deliciously esculent…he realized in awe that they had indeed met about twenty-years ago. The small bundle with half-opened eyes, and the glamorous girl in front of her…they were of one soul. Of inexplicably different times, but ultimately the same.

He cursed his incompetence, for if he possessed the verbal acuity of Prince Edward, he would have definitely complimented her on _exactly how breathtaking she looked._ It was only polite of him, for she awarded him with the most felicitous visage he had ever-

"At…" she blinked, her dark lashes fluttering, rendering her fire-y irises larger, more resplendent than usual. "When, exactly? I don't want them to think that if I'm some epicure without the decency of even saying hello."

"Hm." He had not yet recovered from his trance.

She stepped closer, knotting her brows fugaciously together. "Hm, is not a good enough answer. Answer me, Lieben" she demanded, snapping her niveously gloved fingers, the fragile sound barely present. "So I can inform them exactly how I was forced into this marriage against my will, at the expense of their son's ineptitude."

_What? _"I've said this many times already. I'm doing this for my kingdom, not to mention the peace of _your people._ It's a little too late for you to complain. You're already in that wedding dress." He hooked his thumbs through his belts, the nebulous admiration in his eyes replaced with his signature detachment.

She stared at him for a brief moment, then snorted, tossing her head to the side. "Your excuses are getting rather repetitive, Liebe-"

"Joshua." he interrupted, his tone firm and equally commanding.

She wore an expression of satirical disbelief. "What?"

"Call me Joshua." he said once more, approaching her with an exterior of nonchalance, and a heart that hopefully didn't betray his calmness. "We're supposed to be convincing enough for _our_ people to believe that we're actually happy together."

"Ironic, since we're probably going to divorce within the month-"

"Within the year." He corrected, and reached out to gently tuck a loose amber tendril behind her ear, causing her to flinch momentarily. "If we're divorced with the month, it'll just create a larger mess."

Her gaze wandered to his hand. Suddenly incredibly self-conscious, Joshua retrieved his fingers, the warmth of her skin a dreamy remnant through his velvet gloves. "To answer your earlier question, my parents won't be present for the majority of the ceremony, but they'll be at the reception." She smelled of…peonies? Peonies mixed with a flavor of wisteria.

"What, is this another rule in your precious Dres Vanian accords? That the sovereigns are not permitted to see their daughter-in-law until after the promise is sealed?" she challenged, but didn't move away from him, despite her obvious discomfort at their immediacy.

"No." he smiled, just a little to dismantle his dull, serious disposition. "They're just overseas visiting the kingdom of Advaboole."

"Advaboole? You mean that desert country? I thought you didn't bother to invite them."

"I didn't." he responded, "But words spread. Prince Madaaf is invited to the reception instead of his parents. Dres Van and Advaboole go far back, so an invitation was necessary for the sake of courtesy."

Masking it as an afterthought, he added,

"Your dress is beautiful."

If it wasn't for the fact that his eyes bore firmly in her features, he would have possibly missed the blush that emerged underneath her layers of foundation. However, the color disappeared just within a heartbeat, rendering her face once again etiolately pale, without spirit.

"You're such a sweetheart" she said, moving away and trailing her sumptuous gown behind her clicking heels. "Is there another book that's giving you these lines?"

He narrowed his eyes, his voice practically dripping of dispassion as he retorted, "Yeah, it's called 'How-to-court-your-nemisis'-crazed-daughter-101'."

She was aghast. "I'm his sister, you jerk."

He smiled, inclining his head to the ground and looked up at her through his lashes. "I'll be convinced of that when you start acting your age."

He saw her grit her teeth, but she didn't protest when he offered his arm in escort. Instead, she took it obediently, cadencing her fingers softly upon his arms in a demure progression. He turned his head away, for his heart revived once more, pumping his blood with such a remarkable rapidity, exceeding that of Helios' sun chariot. He couldn't quite understand why he felt that way. But somehow, his world, confined gingerly in that fragranced dressing-room felt a little bigger.

Just a little.

"Well then." She breathed, puffing her floral redolence upon him, her unconscious movement once again accelerating his heart.

"Lead the way, _Joshua_."

The way she enunciated his name left him breathless, her voice still reverberating through his mind as they traversed down the hall. They were wordless, each idle to their own devices. Her steps didn't have…spring. They were monotonous, deployed of emotion. He didn't like it, for she should have more fire within her, be it halcyon allegros of gambolling happiness or irregular cacophonies of anger.

He preferred her with more intensity, more _vigor._

"Are you nervous?" he blurted out before he could stop himself. They had reached the main corridor, and were just a few hundred meters from the ballroom. He could already hear the castle orchestra symphonise their dazzling melodies, but somehow, he didn't have the strength to lift his spirits.

"Yeah. It's probably the only wedding I'll ever have. It's really a pity it's worth nothing more than a temporary contract" Her message was desolate, propelling Joshua to immediately dart his eyes towards hers, capturing her attention with his concerned own.

"What do you mean, 'the only wedding you'll ever have'?"

She smiled, a small, sad smile nullified by the hollow pride of Nobel Michael. "Well, you honestly can't expect a princess to have a second chance in marriage after one unsuccessful, can you?" her fingers on his arms tightened, "Though, it's not necessarily a bad thing, considering that I'm the last member of the Nerwan royal family. I don't think we're ready to convert to a republic anytime soon, so there needs to be someone to occupy the throne. A real marriage would just distract me from my duties as princess."

"What are you talking about?" he enquired, "Nerwan's a colony of Dres Van. You don't need anyone to rebuild the country except _my_ ministers. You're merely there as a symbol of faith for the citizens. Like a Buddha."

"I know." Her smile widened, more care-free this time round. "Though, I haven't given up on completely liberalizing Nerwan just yet. Sometime in the future, when we're strong enough to not depend on Dres Van anymore, I'll remove your flag from our capital."

His eyes were warm as he returned her smile,

"I wish you the best of luck."

The sun suddenly descended, or rather camouflaged behind a plethora of silver clouds, casting a shadow of mystery upon the Corinthian columns within the grand hallway. The space around them mystically darkened, and Joshua blinked, blinked a couple times as he stared, entranced at her fiery beauty. She was alike a war goddess, one that would in her untamed valor and strategy conquer the wills of even the most cunning of kings.

What was happening to him? Everything in his vision faded, everything except her. Prince Joshua wasn't the type to condone love at first sight, for he believed it as a superficial judgement based on an instantaneous appeal. Besides, he had seen her more than enough times during the last week alone.

He reasoned, but to no avail, for his mind melted, underneath the wordless echoes transmitted between them, buried in the shadows that now embraced them in mystery.

Much to his surprise, she stared right back, her eyes theatrically widening, akin to stage curtains unveiling an accomplished performance. With the lack of light, her irises were darker, no longer similar to amber in their pellucidity, but took on more of the appearance of molten rubies, ones so enchantingly iridescent that they wiped clean his conscience. He noticed her lips, how tantalizingly red they were – enough to devour, to subject her to a frenzied passion, one that she wouldn't forget for the rest of the day. He inched his face closer, and felt the air around them tense, petrified with the sexual tautness that permeated between the two…she didn't budge, but this hazy look overtook her features, as if adjourned between deliberation and wanting…

"Prince Joshua. What are you doing here?" Prince Keith, in his untimely appearance released Joshua of his trance. Immediately did he shoot back, dropping her roughly to her side, and glared, slightly too menacingly at the Libertian Prince's approaching form. "There's an entire room of people gathered in the ballroom awaiting your presence."

Wow. Joshua frowned. How Prince Keith managed to sound unbelievably arrogant even when stating a simple fact was beyond him. "I'm aware of that. Why are you in a tuxedo? Any event that consists of the formality of a summit must be attended with one's royal emblems."

Joshua raised his brow as Prince Keith's expression faltered. His left eye twitched as he retorted, his voice tinged with displeasure. "There was a wine accident that occurred earlier in the meeting room. If you wish to blame someone, blame Prince Edward. His timing for spitting drinks in the faces of other royals is utterly atrocious."

_What the hell was he talking about? _"It doesn't matter." said Joshua. He quickly skimmed Keith's wardrobe, and decided that it was at least borderline acceptable for his wedding. "You'll do. It's not Dres Van that's getting their impressions broken."

"What did you just say to-" Keith's roar was stopped midway. Joshua scrutinized Keith's flabbergasted face as the latter stared at the Nerwan Princess, his jaw dropped miles to the ground. Princess Stephanie, on the other hand was just as in awe, clutching the hem of her dress tightly…

Joshua vehemently decided that with Prince Keith's widened mouth and oddly sharp teeth, he resembled a shark. "What are you doing? This is my bride, the princess of-"

"The princess of Nerwan. Stephanie, correct?" Joshua was in utter shock when Keith raised her gloved hand to his lips, a peaceful look about his eyes. He softly kissed her slim knuckles, and just to agitate Joshua further, the amethyst-haired prince observed a playful smile flooding her features.

"It's been a while, Prince Keith. How's Princess Catherine doing? Has her sickness subsided?"

"Not entirely." He responded, "But she's gotten much better. She still asks about you, you know. It's been a while since you've visited Liberty Manse, Cathy's been quite worried."

"Wait." Not quite able to wrap his head around what transpired before him, Joshua interjected with blatant shock, "Prince Keith, you're acquainted with Stephanie?"

She blinked at his lack of honorifics, but decided against argument.

Keith snorted, his transitory kindness vanishing into nonexistence. "Yes. She and Cathy are, if I'm up to date with Libertian pop-culture, considered to be 'BFFs'."

"That's right." She carolled on, flashing Joshua a triumphant look. "Why are you so surprised, Lie-, I mean Joshua. I'm also royalty, and every bit as famous as you are."

Joshua glared at her, instantly forgetting the loaded, almost sensual moment that they shared just seconds ago. He was about to say something, but just as he stepped forward, Prince Keith curtly interrupted him, his expression one of suspicion, one of doubt. "You're marrying her without knowing that she's acquainted with the Alfords? You don't appear to know her very well, do you, Prince Joshua?"

That was precisely why Prince Joshua dreaded Prince Keith's presence. At times, underneath his typical childish brashness, the Libertian Prince possessed an acute intelligence that pierced through even the most tenuous situations. If Joshua would go as far as to utter another mindless word, Keith would unravel the truth behind their marriage – the contract, the turmoil of his country, perhaps even the fact that their promise in matrimony was entirely forced by him. If Princess Stephanie allied with Keith, then there was absolutely no means of refuge left for him to-

"You're right." Oh lord. Perspiration slowly and agonizingly rolled down Joshua's back as Stephanie addressed Keith. His breath was caught in his throat, and he suddenly felt dizzy, light-headed, nauseous, like he just swallowed a frog-

"We don't know each other very well." She turned towards Joshua, wearing the most adoring smile he had ever seen. "But that's not a problem, because I intend to spend the rest of my life learning his every secret, learning everything there is to know about him until he's an open book. It is my deepest desire that he grants me that wish."

The mellifluousness of her voice conquered that of the roaring symphonies. Both Joshua and Keith were bewildered, their eyes equally round opals as they stared at the princess, who venomously gestured at the former to continue the act. Recovering painfully as he did quickly, Joshua jumped forward and hooked his arm around hers, all the while smiling with hyperbolic inelasticity to Prince Keith. "My wish is the same. You'll always be my one and only, Stephanie. From now, to the end of time."

"I don't care what tomorrow will bring, as long as you're here with me. I'll do anything to make you-"

"Okay." Keith raised his hands up in defeat, a somewhat repulsed grimace forming upon his lips. "Save that for the ceremony. Declaring your love for one another now won't profit you in any way."

Joshua nodded, once again indifferent. "After you, Prince Keith."

Without a second of hesitation, Keith darted down the hall, his stately poise ridiculed by the frantic clicking noises of his dress shoes.

"Do you think he bought it?" Stephanie enquired apprehensively as Keith entered the ballroom.

He nodded, more so to convince himself. "Yes. Prince Keith repels anything that's related to love. He won't be able to deduct anything without recalling our moment there."

"Hopefully." She looked at their hooked arms, her gaze threatening to burn a hole through Prince Joshua's jacket. "…we need to go, otherwise Lord Michael will have nobody to marry."

"...Yes." He didn't return her eyes when he stepped forward, leading her closer and closer to their joined fates. Every step he took weighed heavy, heavy as his heart, heavy as the very mechanisms of his mind that warned him to turn back.

She was warm against his side. But she- , no, neither them from that point on would no longer be free. Even if divorce was a plausible strategy, they would still suffer from its hideous retributions – for aside from, out of some miraculous miracle, finding happiness within one another, they would suffer from an eternal curse of loneliness.

…

_Click._

The air around him exploded. It was as if he had stepped into an entirely different world.

As the marble doors unveiled their presence, his company erupted in tympanic-shattering joy. Thousands, perhaps even millions of rose petals descended gracefully from the sky, flooding them with vestiges of fresh, newly-cut vegetation. Music, grandeur, splendid music reverberated the floors beneath him, trembling his boots even through their sculpted soles. Gold, endless gold lights blinded his vision, prompting him to raise his hands to shield his eyes protest against their harmonious arrays. Recognizing that his attempt was futile, he averted his gaze to her, and drank in with wonder the delightful color that her shimmery gown had transformed into.

Shouts of congratulations inundated the air as they made their way down the aisle, one decorated with excessive flowers of various kingdoms. Some greetings made were foreign, from ministers whom Joshua had only met on very limited occasions; others were familiar, including the verbal extravaganza of Prince Edward, the fury-provoking informality of Prince Roberto, who was comically dabbing his eyes with a handkerchief and the other three, each wearing rather apathetic impressions as they muttered words of greetings. Stephanie, on the other hand _appeared _awfully ecstatic as she curtsied to his guests, her smile of such foudroyant radiance that almost made him uncomfortable. But wait…

He couldn't further process his thoughts, for they had reached the end of the carpet, and now faced a teary-eyed Lord Michael. His beard was perfectly trimmed as always, and from his robes sprang the revitalizing scent of soap, one that under other circumstances would have impressed Joshua. However, there and now, his uncertainty shrouded all his other senses.

"My boy." The elderly lord embraced the Dres Vanian prince, "I'm so happy for you. And it's such an honor that you chose me to direct you wedding." He drew back, and beamed at Princess Stephanie, who curtsied sophisticatedly in response to his acknowledgement. "I see you have found yourself a beautiful bride. Such a lucky young man you are, Prince Joshua."

He smiled, as wide as possible so it reached his eyes. "Thank you, Lord Michael. I feel the same way. I couldn't have asked for a more wonderful girl." It was all just an act, and yet somehow, it aggrieved him more and more to sustain the show…

A tear dripped down Lord Michael's cheek. He clumsily wiped it away, "I wish you a lifetime of happiness, my dear Joshua." he said in his deep tenor, and Joshua bowed, delaying his return as long as possible to disguise his indecision.

Lord Michael clapped his hands, and the world behind him silenced immediately. Joshua was suddenly intensely aware of the eager sights fixated upon him, ones that connived his confidence to some very distant future…he recoiled his back, turned towards her, only to realize that she was mouthing something indecipherable. Joshua leaned closer, curious to read her luscious lips when his host's booming voice resounded beside him. His heart pounded, with such unsurpassed briskness as Lord Michael extended his arms, deservedly siring light in his stately pose-

"Well then." he signalled, "Let us commence the ceremony."

**Chapter VI **

** "**_I , Joshua Lieben, take thee to be my lawfully wedded Wife, to have and hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer and for poorer, ins sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and by witness of Holy Nobel Michael, I plight thee my troth."_

_ Did he say those words right? Did he sound convincing enough? What remained unknown to his audience was, that under his incredibly calm exterior hid a salient heart that threatened to escape his chest. _

_ Why did any of those vows matter to him? For his entire life, all that he cared of was the throne. He would do anything to get it. Anything – kidnapping the sister of his enemy, forcing her to marry him and only to divorce her months later when his kingdom was ridden of conflict. He made her an old maid at the fresh age of nineteen. He was the one who drove Leonardo out of his palace and to his death. He was the one who would perish and destroy to attain what he wanted. He should feel happy that his plan fell flawlessly into order. _

_ Yet, there was nothing fictitious of the remorse he felt. It was real. So real, that even Joshua's obsessive skepticism as crown prince couldn't challenge its veracity. _

_ Her lips moved, but no sounds came out. Joshua knew what she wanted to say, the exact words she would repeat to confirm her share of their truce. She would, just like him declare her timeless love for him. But she didn't speak, or was it that he didn't hear her? _

_ Why couldn't he hear her? _

_ He recalled leaning closer, and receiving some questioning murmurs from the audience. So she did speak, he just…didn't quite catch it. Why was that? Why was he suddenly deaf to her speech? Was it because, some part of him didn't want to hear them, and was protecting him from potential trauma?_

_ Or was it because he didn't want to hear those worthless, insincere words come out of her mouth? _

_ Did he __**want**__them to be real? _

_ He didn't know. He didn't know anything anymore. All of a sudden he felt lost, swirling in an endless void of darkness that extended beyond the boundaries of the universe. There was no light, no warmth, no stable ground where he could rest his feet. There was only blackness, overwhelming, insurmountable blackness…_

"Yoohoo, anybody home?"

_His victory should expectedly compensate his guilt, and yet-_

"Joshy-poo, are you alright?" Prince Joshua felt a precarious shake on his arm, and a cold, crystalline feeling against his fingertips. Though, neither of those things were yet adequate persuasions to relinquish him from his entangled thoughts-

"Prince Joshua? Are you O.K? I'm getting seriously worried over here!" Joshua blinked a couple times before fully capable of responding to an apprehensive Roberto. Once revived, he cringed, rather rudely to their closeness, and swiftly retrieved his arm from under the Altarian prince's grasp.

"Yes, I am fine. Why do you ask?" Prince Roberto winked at him, and without consent clinked his champagne glass against Joshua's own.

"Why, you've been staring at your bride for the past fifteen minutes! Why don't you just ask her to dance? I mean, it's your reception after all. The party won't start until you two evacuate the dance floor!" Prince Roberto's incorrigible zeal, much like Prince Edward's choice of prose was a perpetual mystery to Joshua – he his morbid imagination couldn't tell the natural from the impersonated. Usually, he would probably remain for a while in attempt to expose their true beliefs; however, he just…wasn't in the mood right there and then.

"No thanks, I think I've had too much to drink. I shall retire to my room for the remainder of the evening." he said, and gulped down the remains of his wine in one swift motion.

"What?!" Prince Roberto's features were imputed with comical horrification, "But you just got married! You should be completely smitten with your new wife." He nudged Prince Joshua playfully in the ribs, "Though I'm impressed, Joshua. Who knew you could secure such an _exotic_ beauty under such short notice?"

He stole a quick look towards her laughing form, elegant swirled below Prince Keith's arms. "Hm. You must have assumed too soon."

Roberto giggled, and once again raised his wine glass in the air. "Yeah. Who knew our stoic robot of a prince would actually be the first of us to get married!"

That, finally caught his attention. "Was that supposed to be insulting, Prince Roberto?" he enquired, his missive made indefinitely more intimidating with his firmly knitted brows.

"Heavens, no!" Roberto raised his spare hand in defense. Then, as if deciding to uplift Joshua even more, he flung his arms around the Dres Vanian Prince. "I find it endearing how clueless you are sometimes, Joshy. You're like a kitten who purrs at her own reflection in the mirror!"

_WHAT? _Joshua violently shook off Roberto's embrace. "What's that supposed to mean!? Did you just compare me to an infant feline?!" he roared, loud enough to capture the attentions of their surrounding guests. Somehow, in another less-than-scrupulously-confining moment, Joshua once again marked himself as the humiliated cynosure of Nobel Michael.

Prince Roberto's eyes widened, astonished for a fleeting moment before his fingers flew to his mouth, stifling an emerging fit of mad giggling. "Oops, sorry! I totally forgot that you have an incurable case of aliurophobia, Prince Joshua."

"Ailurophobia?" he asked, his voice calmer this time. The annoyed guests, after witnessing Joshua's anger evaporate turned back to their pointless chatter, each smile more deceptively ebullient than another.

Prince Roberto grinned, rather roguishly. "Why, it's the irrational fear of ca-" he was brutally cut off by a raise of Joshua's hand.

"Don't bother saying it. I know what it means." That was a lie. Anything that's remotely related to the felis genus dispensed the amethyst-haired prince an uncontrollable attack of panic, one that wouldn't subside until Jan had sanitized the entire castle. It wasn't his fault that he harbored this particular phobia – it's a trait passed down through the males of the Lieben house, and Joshua was definitely no exception.

Prince Roberto smiled contentedly to Joshua's obvious discomfort. He wanted to add something, to further provoke the Dres Vanian prince, when Jan's precocious appearance interrupted his advance. Frowning, he stepped back and allowed Joshua's steward to proclaim his message.

"Your Highness." Jan bowed low, "His and Her Majesties have arrived, and have just summoned Her Highness Stephanie to their chamber."

_Oh. That was…sooner than he expected. _Nodding stiffly, Prince Joshua abandoned the two and strode towards the center of the ballroom. The song hadn't ended, so it was highly uncustomary for him to interrupt the _couple_ – even thinking of the notion bubbled bile in his throat. Keith's brows grew in agitation as Joshua approached them, and practically emanated wrath when he tapped her on the shoulder.

"My parents are here, and they wish to meet you." Her eyes widened in momentary astonishment, but recovered quickly.

"Why, where are they?" Much to Joshua's fury, Prince Keith swirled her around and awarded him with a full-on, exclusive view of his broad back. _What the hell. _With accelerating steps, Joshua followed their dance, his voice paralleling the temperature of the most deserted of tundrae.

"They've summoned you to their chambers." She sighed, an exasperated sigh that prompted Keith to once again switch positions. However, this time, before he could distance her away from him, Joshua intersected with a tight grasp of Keith's arm. Not going to lie, but the moment his fingers encountered the Libertian Prince, even Joshua couldn't help but astound over his protruding biceps.

"She's coming with me, Prince Keith. The dance can wait." Neither possessing the interest nor the attention span to endure Keith's indignant remonstrations, Joshua dragged Stephanie away from him, establishing a rather unbecoming sight upon the dance floor. Few giggles transpired at the theatrical scene of a ferocious husband forcefully retrieving his mischievous wife; some brazen individuals even went as far as to pick up their cameras-

"I'm sorry, but picture taking is strictly prohibited inside the castle. I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to put those away." Prince Wilfred's kind, but nevertheless authoritative words inhibited them just in time for the newlywed couple to disappear into the corridors.

"So…" she droned. They practically ran down the halls of Nobel Michael, a reminiscent of Joshua's childhood years, when he was first introduced the Altarian and Philipean princes in their prime youths. He was instructed ceaselessly to win their companionships, and had prepared many, many speeches to receive their favor…little did he expect that their friendships were so hearty and effortless, that they had struck up an unbreakable bond during their first day…

"What are your parents like?" her heels clicked behind her. He briefly wondered how that extraneously long gown of hers could manage such a quick expedition.

"My mother's much like yourself, while my father is the mirror image of me." Joshua turned at a junction. He had not received the exact coordinates of his parents' chambers; however, knowing their preferences and, at this point, habits, it was rather simple to deduct where they would nest themselves to avoid the 'suffocating' reception. Well, his father at the very least, his mother was probably dying to attain a taste of the food-

He masked it as an afterthought, "Except perhaps stricter, and older."

She snorted. "You don't say. And here I was thinking that I could pick him up and toss him in the air like you'd do with a baby."

"That's highly unrecommended. You won't survive beyond our wedding night."

He half expected another snarky retort, something along the lines of 'are you serious' and a signature head-toss, or something to defy his mental capacity. So when she didn't respond at all, his curiosity propelled him to turn back, and with care did he scrutinize her face, one carrying patent, unadulterated awe.

"What are you-" he finally realized the implications of his last statement.

_Oh._

That wasn't exactly what he meant.

Not at all.

Fortunately, they had arrived before his parent's room. He couldn't have been possibly quicker as he released her hand, and banged against their door, his brashness aggravating the force he employed. _Why, why on earth did he just say that? Did she take him seriously? Oh in the name of Holy Nobel Michael, did she actually expect-_

"Joshua?" his mother's effeminate voice filtered through their polish mahogany frame. Mahogany was just another one of those ancient familial curses that persisted through the Lieben bloodline. He didn't think that any woman would prefer the particular wood, none except his mother – that was just one of the many aspects where their union was marked as absolutely immaculate. The Queen, in more ways than one was tailored perfectly for the King, "Joshua, is that you?"

"Yes, Your Majesty." He brushed his fingers absently through his hair, completely ignorant to how his gesture appeared him uncomfortable in his own shoes. "May we come in?"

There was no reply. His heart nearly jumped out of his chest when the door clicked open, unearthing the petite, vibrantly robed body of his mother and her animated, heart shaped face. Upon seeing her dearest son, she beamed, and without a second's deliberation threw herself in his chest, her adoring assault nearly knocking Stephanie off her feet. "Oh, Joshua, how I have longed to see you for the past couple months. How have you been? Have you been eating properly?" she drew back, cupped his face and implored his eyes keenly, "You haven't been pulling all-nighters again, have you? You know how I feel about you overworking yourself! Aren't you aware that _cats are more active during the night?_ What if you give yourself a fright? The castle staff won't even know what to do with you! Will they get you to the infirmary in time…"

Joshua was stunned. He had known people that could improvise the most mellifluous, eloquent of speech with careless improvisation, and others that could memorize impeccably the most daunting of constitutions. However, the rapid-fire talent his mother encompassed in elucidating her every syllable was simply uncanny…he was so bewildered at the countless questions his mother ardently exhausted him with, that he didn't even notice the small array of giggles that Stephanie produced.

Well, he didn't, but his mother surely did. She blinked, curiously in her direction, flashing her topaz-ed irises for a couple moments before once again irradiating the room with her brilliant smile. "You must be Stephanie! Oh, Jan was right, you're even more beautiful in person!"

The Nerwanese princess seemed like she was about to curtsey, but was deemed unsuccessful when the queen grasped her gloved hands. "Oh, my dear, don't bother with formalities. You guys already got married, haven't you? That makes you a member of the Lieben house!"

Without bothering to breathe, his mother tugged on his bride, and the latter fell, devoid of grace and dignity within the arms of the former. "You can just go ahead and call me mother, dear. Joshua must really love you if he chose to marry you within a week's notice! Oh, it must be love at first sight! Quite like how his father and I came to our union, actually…"

"Mother." Joshua interrupted, enormous, visible beads of perspiration already forming on his forehead. He had heard this story before, and it definitely wasn't one that contributed to his princely aura – it was a tale that nobody, not even his bride should be subjected to its torture. "I believe my father would also like to meet Prin- I mean, Stephanie. Let us not keep him waiting."

The queen pouted, rather endearingly for her less-than-profligate years. "Oh, Joshua, you're just like your father. Always a fun-killer." Though, despite her words, she freed his bride, and only kept a hold of her hand as she led them into their ostentatious chambers. Stephanie shot him a hopeless glance, to which he shook with equal bleakness his head. She was lucky, that girl, to be let down rather easily, for his mother's over-friendliness was famous amongst the six kingdoms. A child would usually embarrass over exactly how enthusiastic their parents were; however, in Joshua's atypical case, he hadn't even seen his parents until he metamorphisized into an adult six years ago. He did admit, that at first, he was unaccustomed to his mother's flamboyant mannerisms. Whether or not his parental absences during his childhood were of curse or of blessing, he still retained some trouble discerning.

The room was just like he remembered. Violet, velveteen bed sheets, lavender floral arrangements octamerously entrenched across the pale furnaces. A duality of caliginous armchairs and vanilla cushions marked their seating area – that, and pristinely smooth leather with the perpetual prospect of not-wrinkling. Ever.

"Joshua." his father rose from his couch. There was regality in every scintilla of his father's movements, even when he was awkwardly trying not to stumble over. "My son, congratulations on your marriage. I trust this is the Nerwan princess, Stephanie?" He strode over, and just on cue, the queen moved adroitly out of the way.

He approached, defining the space between them as unduly vexed and immensely tense. "My condolences on what has happened to your kingdom. Though, I trust with the assistance of my son, Nerwan shall eventually prosper once more."

That was the deal with his father. Everything, even the smallest, most insignificant statements he uttered consisted of some alternative meaning. On less frequent occurrences, they were unintentional; however, as the atmosphere dictated right there and then, in that very room, Joshua knew with absolute certainty that his father formulated a second connotation.

One that perhaps coincided with Joshua's original motive in wedding Princess Stephanie. Fortunately, the princess herself didn't appear to detect the alternative; for she bowed of undeniable elegance, poising her skirts neatly behind her as she greeted.

"Thank you, Your Majesty. I believe so too." she ephemerally raised her head, a primordial, untamed flame flashing within her enthralling irises. "I hope you look forward to Nerwan's revival as much as I do."

_Oh my -. _Joshua held his breath, flabbergasted and suddenly apprehensive at the flash of annoyance that crossed the King's ferocious features. Not only did she disregard him, but she _provoked _him, and just less than a minute since their first meeting. He fought, hard against the desire to crumple down on the floor, the bile in his throat truly nauseating him this time round-

Almost immediately after his demonstration of displeasure, the king smiled, his shoulders relaxing as his dark violet eyes shone in delight. _What!? _

"A splendid choice in a bride, Joshua." he had said, this time without the malicious undertones of dichromatic speech. "The house of Lieben could use more members like her. You know, girls with more _fire, _just like your mother."

Forfeiting her tranquility, his mother hustled to his side. "So you've noticed too, dear. I had a feeling that Joshua would retrace our footsteps one day."

_What was that supposed to mean?_ Joshua stole a glance towards Stephanie, and realized in awe that she too had affixed her gaze on him perplexedly. In a moment of synchronized magic, they both blushed, and this time, it was the Queen's turn to giggle.

"My my, you guys can't even keep your eyes off each other for one second!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands contentedly together. "Your ardour just might be able to beat ours!"

"No." the king pointed out. "They definitely have a long way to go."

The rest of their meeting expired through pointless chatter between Joshua's bride and his mother, whether it was gown preferences and the redundantly 'dull' regulations of Dres Van. He was astonished by exactly how quickly the two confided in each other – his father was correct, once again. They were of inexplicably one mind, and although Stephanie was taller, slimmer and infinitely more poised that his mother, they wielded practically identical personalities. Hell, even the way they were perched gingerly across the couch mirrored one another. Well, not entirely _identical, _per se, for Stephanie embedded more spirit, while his mother was more docile in both her speech and her… everything else. He couldn't quite conclude which he preferred more, but then again, it was near impossible for him to isolate himself from subjectivity.

He watched with ethereal warmth in his heart as she conversed with his parents, who both appeared quite at ease in her company. They were entranced, enchanted by her – her sassy mouth, her revitalizing personality, and the occasional profound insight she would incorporate into her speech. Somehow, he had made this work. His parents most definitely approved of this marriage, and furthermore, they seemed to genuinely believe in the quality of their make-belief love…

"Joshua." his father beckoned him forward, so that they were out of ear-shot from the vivaciously discussing pair, "I hope you have thought this through, my dear son."

…

"What do you mean, father?" he enquired, struggling to keep his voice as nonchalant as possible. He felt the air around him freeze in trepidation. With his father's uncanny perception, it was just a matter of time before he realized that they marriage was just a ploy for…other means.

The king sighed, his aged lashes partially concealing the acute acumen of his jewel-like eyes. "I don't think it's a good idea for you to waste away your happiness. You know, for royals like us, we're only granted one chance at marriage. Don't ruin it, Joshua."

…

Prince Joshua inclined his head, his expression indecipherably disguised by the languorous fall of his lustrous bangs. His father had coined his apprehensions, quite accurately at first glance; however, what he failed to ascertain was that rather than regret, his guilt domineered every other emotion. There were instances, instances where he rigidly greeted his guests during the ceremony, did he feel that nothing was more sacred to him,

Nothing more than the desire to restore her faith in happiness.

"Do not fret, father. I trust that you've witnessed our love for each other already." He ventured, assembling the most dazzling smile manageable. "There's nothing more to our marriage than our mutual feelings for one another. I cannot imagine a more suitable girl to be my princess."

The king analyzed the prince, for a long, pregnant moment before covering his hands with his more…wrinkled ones. "Then don't let my doubts prevent you from realizing your happiness, Joshua." The prince nodded, satisfied that his father managed to agree with his purposes. He was just about to voice himself into the other conversation, but was stopped brusquely by the king,

"You know, Joshua." he commanded, the prominent majesty of a powerful sovereign once again resurfacing in his scintillating irises. "What you're attempting to accomplish here, with the unrest at the Nerwan borders should not stop at your marriage." He leaned in closer, so that Joshua could detect his blazingly hot breath upon his ear, "What you should really consider, if you truly desire to bring Nerwan and Dres Van into one, is producing an _heir._"

His father's words rose a billion Goosebumps across his skin. "An heir?!" his proclamation was audible enough that his mother raise her delicate brow at him for a moment, before deciding that it was unworthy of questioning.

The king nodded, his expression solemn at Joshua's rather unprincely outburst. "What better to convince the Nerwans of their worth than a descendent of their royal family, fused with the blood of their conquerors?"

He propped himself from between the enveloping cushions, ones embroidered with the most intricate carnations up to point. "Consider it, my son. It may be the denouement to all your predicaments."

"You know." She breathed, perfuming the air with her exclusive floral aroma. He hadn't even realized that wisteria smelled of such an enthralling redolence before her graceful encroachment into his life. "Your parents are far more laid-back than your describe them to be."

They were locked in dance, their somehow choreographed steps accompanied by the grand symphonies performed by the castle orchestra. The chandeliers above them glistened luminously, bestowing a gold, divine atmosphere that magically encased the two. Joshua had never been an avid fan of any sort of music, despite the fact that many acknowledged his talent in singing, he had never really ventured to flaunt his capabilities in the domain. Every dance he endured in Nobel Michael was tedious and ultimately unwanted, even if his…wife of questionable affections was in his arms, all he wanted was just to discharge from the tumorous situation as soon as possible.

"They were holding back," he argued, "and there's a double standard they maintain when it comes to women. They, especially my father. He's usually stricter. And you're perhaps ignoring the factor of situational demans- What the hell was that for?" he bellowed, his arm flying to the part of his shoulder, where she scratched, hard and unyieldingly his skin, ruthlessly through the fabric of his jacket.

"When someone compliments your family," she said as she assumed the lead, redeeming them from any obvious incoordination, "The polite, not to mention customary thing to do is to accept it graciously. And yet here you are, badmouthing your parents without a care in the world."

He narrowed his eyes, and pulled her waist vehemently closer to him, so close that if he were to incline his head, he would be able to kiss her… "Is violence a permanent trait of the Nerwan royal family, or is it just a personal attribute."

She smiled, or rather smirked as she quickened her steps, pressuring him to emulate her actions. "That, my dear husband, is something that you'd have to find out yourself."

The song abruptly ended, and Joshua was more than thankful when Prince Wilfred offered himself to occupy her next dance. She seemed like she wanted to continue their banter, or was his senses rendered illusive once again? He didn't know. So alike what he always under the presence of ambiguous stimuli, he wandered over to the wine table and picked up a glass, relaxing at the sensual sensation of Charles' finest alcohol sluggishly melting his throat. It was, in all senses a great counterstatement to the bile he had so painfully supressed that very night.

"You know, alcohol is seldom the solution to anything." Prince Glenn's emotionally detached tone traversed monotonously into Joshua's ear. Ironic to his missive, the young Oriensian prince too held a glass of champagne – but of a duller color, an indication of its inferior alcohol content. Prince Joshua couldn't differentiate, that whether it was due to his slight light-headedness or previously competing motives, but he actually felt slightly triumphant at witnessing Prince Glenn's incompetence. An incompetence that although visible, was also justifiable.

"I don't want to hear that from someone that's barely of age." Glenn eyed him antagonistically for a second, but didn't magnify the topic further. Instead, he brought his glass slowly to his lips, tasted gently its contents, and relaxed his hand once more to his side.

"Who knew that the prince with the most unappealing personality would actually be the first of us to obtain a bride. I for one am quite amazed at this development, Prince Joshua." Although his tone was unaffected, Joshua could still distinguish the mocking implication he so creatively cloaked.

"What did you just say to me?!" his fingers trembled, no longer able to contain his bubbling agitation.

Before Prince Glenn could speak in defense, Prince Roberto peregrinated excitedly over to them, and crushed their shoulders with the brute impact of his arms. "Come on, Prince Joshua, don't get angry." He sang, "G-money here just wished you congratulations in the language of tsunderes, didn't you?"

This time, Prince Glenn beat Prince Joshua in angrily reprimanding Prince Roberto, "How many times do I have to warn you not to call me that?!"

Roberto winked mischievously, his chocolate brown gossamers made fugaciously auburn under the incandescent lighting. "Until it finally sinks in! You know, I'm thinking of starting a trend with this 'nickname-your-prince' thing. It'll definitely make our kingdom summits less dreary, don't you think so, Joshy-poo?" he prodded Joshua's cheek, and the Dres Vanian prince fluidly batted him away.

"I'm against the idea. Unless you'd like to make a fool of yourself before Lord Michael, Prince Roberto, my suggestion is that you keep your so called 'nicknames' to yourself."

Prince Roberto's eyes unexpectedly widened, a happening that Joshua couldn't locate any viable affection. "Why, Prince Joshua, you don't sound as angry as you usually do! Could it be that Stephanie has softened your edges?"

_What?_ Joshua gritted his teeth. Since when were they well-acquainted enough to be on a first name basis? During the entire ceremony, she hadn't even addressed him with his name, not even once. Yet Prince Roberto was using her maiden name like he had known her all his life-

"My edges are not to be softened, not by anyone, Prince Roberto." Roberto sighed, a crushed look overwhelming the space between his brows. Prince Glenn, on the other hand stared with prolonged pause at the glass of wine he held, as if attempting to see through its transparent contents…that was when Prince Joshua recalled that the Oriensian prince possessed a near non-existent tolerance for alcohol.

"Awe, don't be like that Joshy-poo!" the Altarian crown prince stole an impish glance to Princess Stephanie, who laughed heartily while guided by Prince Wilfred's tender embrace. "She might just be stolen from you, maybe even right underneath your nose!"

_Right, like that was going to happen. _"Your concern is unnecessary, Prince Roberto. I don't intend to lose to her, not until- " he retracted midway, at once acutely conscious of his words, and the potential suspicion his untimely speech would elicit.

Both Prince Roberto and Glenn speculated at his mishap, "What do you mean," the latter enquired, curiosity interweaving into his enquiry, "You don't intend to lose her until…what?" Roberto nodded vigorously, his abundant curls bouncing against his soft features as he stared unwaveringly into Joshua's eyes…

He grew in exasperation, but somehow managed to recall the little unpremeditated skit that occurred briefly before the main ceremony. He conducted a brief run-through of adoring phrases in his head, did a few calculations, and after a loaded moment responded in a small voice, his cheeks flushed with crimson,

"…until the end of time." Prince Glenn looked absolutely aghast, and before he knew it darted swiftly away, displacing himself until there was a significant distance between him and the Dres Vanian prince. Prince Roberto, on the other hand appeared on the verge of tears. He dabbed repeatedly the corner of his eyes,

"Oh my, Joshua, that's so sweet of you!" he exaggeratedly rested his head on Joshua's shoulder, who again shrugged it off feverously, discontent adamant in his tyrannical grimace. Roberto was almost knocked off balance, but recovered as quickly as he departed. "I can't believe that someone like you was capable of saying something so romantic!"

"Uh." Joshua dodged another one of Roberto's advances, careful this time round not to spill the maroon crystallines of his glass. However, his attention was instantly averted to the lack of dancers in the center of the ballroom, or more specifically, the absence of Stephanie and Prince Wilfred.

He darted his gaze around, his mind bracing lucidity, and yet, after a few detailed surveys, they were still nowhere to be found…

"Prince Roberto," he commanded without facing the Prince, a gesture extraordinarily vulgar for two of the same social standing, "Have you seen where Prince Wilfred went? I have some official duties to discuss with him."

Roberto blinked, and in the next moment smiled knowingly. "Why yes, he just left from the southern exit. You can probably still catch- Hey! Joshy-poo!" he sighed, and laughed heartily to himself as Joshua dashed across the dancefloor, threatening to knock over a couple incensed guests in the process.

"Now," he said to himself, his grin widening upon observing the Crown Prince of Dres Van vanish into the columned halls of Nobel Michael,

"This, is how you start a _real party." _

**Chapter VII **

He entrusted his instincts in searching for a streak of gold and a flash of orange, or perhaps the primordial brilliance of the vestal flame itself. His efforts were, ultimately of no avail, for any scintillation of color was to be consumed by the propitious grandiose of Nobel Michael. No wonder Prince Alan Cashiraghi preferred his infamous play of 'hide-and-seek' in the castle – not due to its various arrangement of labyrinth-like corridors and corners, but rather because the very atmosphere of its interior dispelled one's senses, meticulously restricting vision one's sole sovereign. The pale intricacies of gold and beige established impeccable camouflage for any shade less than vibrant, which was in all notions ironic, since both Prince Wilfred and Stephanie's wardrobes consisted of the most unadulterated white.

He scanned every indistinct angle of his visual field. Everywhere that would creatively dissemble his senses, he examined with the utmost care, unaware of the inner motives he fostered. Prince Joshua, as he scurried through the corridors had not yet realized the desperate grimace pasted across his features, nor had he yet reconciled with the emerging envy that flooded his heart. Somehow, the lonesome prince managed to desert his anguish, or rather forfeit any possible assertion of emotion prevalent in his mind. Though he remained blissfully unaware of his feelings, he _was, _acutely conscious of the presence of his repression. He just…didn't exactly know _what _he so dreadfully wished to supress. His only fragment of knowledge was that it sidetracked his intelligence, rendering him a worthless man.

…

Reaching another junction, Prince Joshua bit fractiously into his bottom lip, his canines mercilessly tearing his flesh. They weren't anywhere to be found – that wouldn't be problematic, it usually never was; however, considering that the reception was nearing its grand finale, not to mention the fact that they were scheduled to return to Dres Van within the hour. To navigate within Nobel Michael aimlessly was surely time devouring, and to top that off, Joshua grew increasingly uneasy of Prince Wilfred's intentions by the second.

Even among the high officials of the six kingdoms, the renowned Wildabeast held relative grounds. And Stephanie was merely nineteen…but wait, since when did he care of the whereabouts of her adulations? Feeling his confusion rise in company of bile, Joshua leaned helplessly against a nearing column and closed his eyes, agitation evident in his tightly knitted brows.

That was when he heard a pair of faint whispers emanate through the halls, emboldened by its very own airy hollowness. Joshua immediately recognized Stephanie's voice, which made the other one inevitably the Philipean Prince. He tiptoed closer, stealth as a mouse for a couple moments before he abruptly straightened his back, suddenly immensely humiliated by his action. Did he just genuinely undergo the psychological inducement of a thief, especially when he was the star of the night? More dignified this time round, Joshua's ethereal footsteps slowly approached the source of the sound, his ears more keen than ever of the now audible orations around him…

He stopped dead at a corner, and slammed his back against the cold, senseless walls. They were on the grand balcony, a personal favorite of Joshua's – somehow, for some inexplicable reason, he felt the same tugging sensation he had during the majority of the reception, as if someone was intruding on his intimate privacy. He prodded his head over, his amethyst irises flashing of attentiveness as he observed the two…

…_"You've never been here before?" Prince Wilfred enquired, all the while leaning dashingly against the railings. He permitted the impish evening tempest to artistically ruffle his hair, into a portrait candid, but of startling impressionism. _

_ "Nope." She replied, her fingers flying up to secure her escaping hair in place. Joshua noticed in blithering awe that her ochre curls, unlike they had been in the ballroom were loosely hanging upon her shoulders, whereas her diamond pin was…in Prince Wilfred's hands?! "This is my first time ever in Nobel Michael." _

_ She inclined her head towards Wilfred's rather comically –purposefully- widened aqua irises. "Hey! Don't act so surprised! I don't get out much, Prince Wilfred A. Spencer. There's a reason why I'm not featured in magazines or anything." _

_ He nodded, a phantom of a smile hovering over his lips. "I know. It's rather a pity that you're not, Princess Stephanie." _

_ She blinked. "Can I take that as a compliment?" _

_ To Joshua's surprise, and later dismay, Prince Wilfred laughed, a charming, ebullient laugh that paralleled the morning bells of Dres Van manor. One that was so contagious that he couldn't help but smile a little himself. "Of course. It's a pleasure to be in your gorgeous presence, Princess. Especially when you're in that dress." She blushed, but recovered her momentary embarrassment with a light, ephemeral chuckle. _

_ Why hadn't he recognized it before? She had this extraordinary manner of dispelling awkward situations, one that he previously thought capricious…_

_ As if an afterthought, he added, his words boiling Joshua's blood. "I confess, I am surprised that Prince Joshua permitted us to escape the ballroom like this. Should he not guard you like his greatest treasure, tonight of all nights?"_

_ The way she cast her eyes down disappointedly was, in that moment chronicled in Joshua's heart. "…we're definitely not at that stage, and it's difficult to say if we ever will be."_

_ Prince Wilfred cocked his neck, "…but don't you love him?"_

_ She slowly shook her head, a sad, pathetic little smile upcurving her shimmering red lips. "Would you like the socially expected response or how I actually feel?" _

_ The golden haired-prince rolled his eyes, a gesture that Prince Joshua had never before witnessed. How she possessed this magic to unearth even the most surreptitious characters out of people – forgiveness from his father, adoration from his mother, and now a softer, more care-free repose from Wilfred… "The latter, if it's alright with you."_

_ She nodded, took a deep, loaded breath and responded, her lustrous lashes casting evanescent shades upon her marbled cheekbones. "I don't love him. In fact, I don't think I'll ever be able to love without guilt ever again." Wait, what was that about?_

_ Prince Wilfred appeared to mirror his feelings, for he propped himself up from the railings and strode in elongated steps to her side. "Then… why did you choose to marry him?"_

_ She opened her eyes, and with an iridescent gaze looked imploringly at Wilfred. "Because it was the right thing to do. I know it might be arrogant of me to put it this way, but I had no other choice. If it wasn't for…wasn't for the welfare of my people, I would have never dared set foot into the Lieben manor in the first place."_

_ Her voice sounded uncannily weak, enough to elicit an anonymous anguish from Prince Joshua's chest. How he longed to embrace her in his arms, encompass her with the warmth of…what? Why was he feeling this way? Why was it, that all of a sudden, he felt a prominent disturbance - one strong, vivacious and full of light shattering the sombreness of his insensible world? _

Our much endearing prince remained oblivious to his solidifying emotions; however at this point in the narrative, I feel it is necessary to install an equally lovable antagonist to petition for the affections of our dearest princess.

_ Prince Wilfred placed his hand softly on her shoulder. He didn't speak, but instead solicited in that serene manner of his, his gentle eyes urging her to continue. Stephanie took another deep breath, her scrumptious chest huffing out with her efforts, prompting carnation-like blushes to emerge under Joshua's complexion:_

_ "Because, Wilfred." She said, her employment of her first name threatening to throw Joshua over the edge, "Because it's better for me to sacrifice my happiness than for thousands of my people to rebel against Dres Van. Because they won't win. They're fighting a pointless battle, one that could potentially get all of themselves vanquished in another full-fledged war. The Nerwans are prideful – I would know that. They're not going to go down without a fight, or without some type of revolution that'll inexorably result in their loss. They can't have that. I can't have that. But" she closed the distance between them so she could look directly into his eyes. "If their one remaining royal was to bend to the will of the Dres Van royal family, surely they would give up their futile attempts, right?" _

_ There was a desolate hope in her fiery irises, a desperate calamity as she stared up at Prince Wilfred's peaceful sapphire orbs. They were of a bewitching duality – his calm waves to her passionate fires, his imperishable ice to her diaphanous sun…speaking of the sun, the clear skies surely foretold the procurement of another fine day tomorrow…somehow, the sight of the two dispensed Joshua a rebellious heartache, one that he swallowed thrice to contain._

_ "Was this Prince Joshua's idea?" Prince Wilfred's question was replete with impassive daggers, ones that were maliciously detectable even when Joshua was at least a dozen feet away from them. "Did he force you into this marriage?" _

_ She blinked up at him, then cast her eyes down. "How did you…"_

_ To Joshua's consternation, Prince Wilfred reached out a bold finger, and positioned her lissome chin back up, his lips mere inches from hers. "Because his reasoning, like always is devastatingly flawed. Does he not realize that with the absence of their princess, the Nerwans are more likely to strike in one powerful blow, with everything they have?" he caressed his thumb over the arc of her cheekbones, causing her to tremble, but nevertheless remained firm in purpose to sustain their colloquy. "Those who have nothing to lose are more likely to respond with retaliatory aggression than those who have something worthy to protect. By marrying you, Princess Stephanie, Prince Joshua has through unofficial means declared war on Nerwan, even if he remains ignorant to this potentiality himself. Though, it is not my place to blame him, for he has never been a psychologist."_

_ She continued to flinch under his touch, but did not dare step back. "I don't think that's plausible. I stood as a symbol of hope back in Nerwan castle. Without me they lack motive. Of course, they'd be angry that I've given in to the Liebens, but they would no longer possess purpose to oppose their policies." At that, Wilfred retrieved his movements, and her shoulders relaxed, her tone at once even._

_ "Without me, they have no reason to fight. If even the last remaining royal has bowed to Dres Van's regime, then they're ultimately combating a fruitless war. I personally don't believe my people are stupid enough to devote their time and resources into something that would benefit them much more if they would lower their pride and simply consent."_

_ Prince Wilfred contemplated her words for a second. Then, as if appearing to agree with her argument, he nodded vacantly to himself before adding, "That's a compelling point, Princess Stephanie. But by doing so, have you not just made yourself the most hated figure since your brother's disappearance?" _

_ What? Joshua had never thought of it that way. Sure, Stephanie had quite literally elucidated his thoughts, and he felt an ineffable degree of triumph in its association. However, after all this time, all he had considered were his personal retributions. He had never, put a moment of thought into the subsequent hazards his actions would bestow upon her…_

_ Of course. The undeniable verity within Prince Wilfred's words spread like wildfire through his veins – caching his breath and fervently numbing his mind. Joshua's heart suddenly felt immensely cold, as if the chrysalis he had so painstakingly constructed himself melted, and had submerged the very foundations of his soul into its icy depths. He couldn't breathe, and neither was voicing his compunctions a plausible strategy at this point. All he could do was lean on tenterhooks upon the corridor walls, his eyes glued on the conversing two._

_ She laughed, rather carelessly, compared to the serious undertones of their subject. "That's an insignificant prince to pay for the welfare of my kingdom, don't you think?" _

_ Wilfred scrutinized her for a brief second, then he himself too smiled. "You're starting to sound remarkably like Prince Joshua, Stephanie…may I call you that?"_

_ "Of course." she beamed, and crossed her arms across her chest. "Though, I'm not particularly thrilled about the 'sounding like Prince Joshua part'. I'd rather die an old hag than live out the rest of my days as a dreary bookworm who's utterly infatuated with his precious rules."_

_ Prince Wilfred grimaced in mock horror. "That's a little extreme, don't you think?"_

_ "Extreme?" she raised her brow, "Not at all. You should listen to the way he talks about his laws and regulations. It's like he's confessing to his one true love."_

_ He laughed, and so did she. Their joined voices were a melodic melange of a lively soprano and a becoming tenor, a pair that conflated spiritedly into the crepuscular stars of an enigmatic evening._

_ …_

_ Jealousy. He realized in awe – he was moderately, no- extremely jealous of Prince Wilfred at that moment. Not because of his docile manners and lucid perception, nor of his superior age and knowledge, but because of their closeness, of the intimate, almost spontaneous fashion in which he placed his fingers on her shoulder. He was jealous, jealous of the child-like innocence that shone of Princess Stephanie as she averted her gaze to the marble tiles beneath her feet. How did Prince Wilfred manage to elicit this reaction out of her? Why was it that the Philipean Prince achieved greater confidence with her in a mere half-hour than Prince Joshua did within a week? Was it fair? _

_ 'I only feel this way because she's supposed to be my wife'. With acid, he convinced himself. _

_ "It's too bad…" Wilfred's words were barely a whisper underneath the roaring winds._

_ "What?" she asked. Her cascading curls now flew radiantly in the rushing airs, a felicitously appealing sight that once again stunned Joshua, just like he had been prior to the main ceremony. He knew she was beautiful – all of them were, nobles and royals alike. Beauty was a convention amongst high society. Not only was it expected, there was a subtle code of conduct that made it readily anticipated; however, Stephanie's beauty was…different. There was something captivating about her, something otherworldly that he couldn't quite put his finger on. _

_ Wilfred smiled to himself, a caliginous, but slightly forlorn light overshadowing his clear blue irises. Joshua held his breath as he leaned close, not to kiss, but to secretively whisper in her ear. He couldn't hear the exact words of his missive, but he could deduct the nature of it by her astonished expression and the timid rose shadows now upon her cheeks. _

_ She was his fiancée. No. She was his bride…_

_ "Prince Wilfred, that's very generous of you." She raised her hands tentatively to his chest, while he embraced her slim waist just on cue. "But I stand by my words. I don't intend to pursue personal happiness until the anger of my people subsides. Right now, I cannot afford to-"_

"You cannot afford to what?" Both Stephanie and Wilfred froze in their stances, their features manifest of equal bewilderment as a ferocious looking Joshua suddenly appeared before them. He could endure his fury no longer. How dare…how Prince Wilfred contained the audacity to court his wife, especially on their wedding night was beyond his wildest dreams. It wasn't reason, nor his trademark possessiveness and pride that promoted his entrance, but rather the sheer, repugnant distaste of the closeness of _his bride_ and the Philipean Crown Prince.

"J-joshua?" she stuttered, her hands flying to her cheeks. Prince Wilfred on the other hand was utterly at ease – in fact, he appeared almost triumphant in the insouciance that dominated his disposition. "What are you doing here?"

_She actually had the nerve. _Truth be told, Prince Joshua's anger was more directed towards Stephanie than the Philipean Prince, despite the fact that he knew the former wasn't at fault. She had not shown any signs of infidelity, and yet through his blurred mind, he couldn't tell the difference between malicious avocation and genuine presumptions.

"I could very well ask you the same question." He could feel the bile rising again in his throat.

The skies could glisten without a care in the world to the ignited fires arising within the castle. "I knew I shouldn't have left you alone."

"What's that supposed to mean."

Joshua crossed his arms, and shot an irate glance towards Prince Wilfred's slightly frivolous impassivity. "I mean exactly what I say. Your rendezvous with him is utterly despicable. And here I thought that aside from all your drawbacks, at least you had honor."

"What?" her eyes widened in genuine, unalloyed horror. "Are you calling me irresponsible?"

"No." the violent arrays of noises buzzed his mind, ridding his conscience of its preceding, limited benevolence. "I'm calling you fickle. How dare you let him touch you like that! Tonight of all nights, after our very own wedding reception."

"Fickle?" she repeated softly to herself, as if she couldn't believe her ears, "You think I'm fickle? Since when did you care who touched me, Joshua Lieben? The last time I checked, we're only in this marriage for a political compromise!" her voice increased in volume, prompting Joshua to shake his head in disappointment.

"That doesn't mean you can just let him play around with you like you're some valueless toy!" she blinked at his words. The Philipean Prince's obdurate nonchalance suddenly dissipated as he lifted his hands in warning,

"Prince Joshua, I believe that is going slightly too far."

_What? _Joshua stomped angrily towards Wilfred, ignoring the fact that by doing so, he cushioned Princess Stephanie against his chest. Although his composure was of the same consistently frigid formality, his brilliant irises shone of a primordial anger that even Wilfred backed down in trepidation. His each syllable enunciated was firm, to the point, rendering him all the more intimidating in his endeavor,

"Prince Wilfred." He breathed, "This is not a warning, but a _command. _I do not wish to know what your motives are, or why you have shown such interest in _my wife. _But" he stepped closer, his figure loomingly towering over the golden-haired prince.

"If I catch you making future advances towards her behind my back, then prepare to reign over the greatest war between Philip and Dres Van you've ever seen."

For the first time since their initial meeting, Prince Wilfred was irretrievably flabbergasted. Fortunately for him, Princess Stephanie, who was in the most literal definition of the word was 'sandwiched' between the two royals pushed roughly against their chests, at once inserting some distance between the two.

"Stop!" she screamed, and held her back defensively to Prince Wilfred. "What the hell are you doing? Stop being so juvenile, Joshua Lieben. If you were even half the greatness of your pretense, then you wouldn't throw around such an imperative topic like it was scarcely worth a thing!"

"Juvenile?" he bellowed, "This is coming from the girl who'd switch husbands within five hours of her wedding-"

Prince Wilfred outstretched a cautious hand. There were tears hovering in her eyes – usually, the waterworks technique was undeniably effective against Joshua; however, now, her tears were merely worthless drops of rain, pathetic to the sight.

"I-I didn't-"

"Don't you dare insult me by denying it," His voice mercilessly reverberated through every exposed corner of the palace. "I saw the way you were looking at him, Stephanie. Go." He pointed towards Wilfred, a cynical, half-hearted smile about his quivering lips, "If it's he that you prefer, then get lost."

"Don't ever show you face in front of me again." he spat. It didn't matter to him her miserable protests, nor did Prince Wilfred's caveats advice reconciliation. He spun on his heel, numbed by the pain that coursed through his mind, choked on his heart. _It didn't matter what the truth was. It didn't matter how they had gotten there. It didn't matter what she truly felt, or what Prince Wilfred wished to do with her. He could take her back to Chateau Philip, for all he wanted._

_ Some say that seeing, is believing. _

In that very moment, Prince Joshua encompassed not a care in the world as he fumed within the warren walls detaining Nobel Michael.

A land without a sky. That was the first impression the Dres Van horizons bestowed upon its Crown Prince. He couldn't see anything through the thick layers of fog.

Nothing.

If rain was a rare occurrence of the kingdom, then fog must only appear once every second blue moon. Dres Van's typical, year-long low air pressure made such saturated airs almost completely forgotten by its people. Fog to Dres Van… was like, snow to the Philipeans, or perhaps rain to the Advabooles.

Aside from its mystery and beauty, there was absolutely nothing remarkable about fog. Just like any other phenomenon of nature, fog had its beginnings and ends. Perhaps it began in the skies because the clouds could no longer bear the burden of its excessive waters, and ended as it debauched amongst earthly vegetation. It would descend from the heavens, slowly, launching its sight upon suitable plains to land, its designations usually consisting of pretty scenery and a plethora of greenery. What better target to secure than the boundless grasslands of his manor gardens?

Joshua rested his head within his arms, and stared aimlessly across the smooth, luminous surface of his mahogany desk. There were folklores, legends that permeated campfires at night, each unanimously conveying the same terrors that haunted the children's nightmares. They say that creatures of the night came with the fog, and with the lack of visual precision of its targets preyed after sundown. For a while, he even recalled warning signs his civilians would place every night in front of their doors – almost like the biblical obsession with lamb blood, and in its absence, angelic wrath.

He couldn't understand why his people feared fog. Fog was like darkness – it was merely the lack of perception, as darkness merely the lack of light. There was really nothing fantastical, mystical about them. Though, through centuries of melancholic imagining and speculation and intoxicated reasoning, people have started to equate the blind with the horrible. Things like death, monsters, disasters weaved their associations with harmless things like rain, fog and darkness, and the morbid reputations of the formers started to corroborate the latters. They were the victims, victims truly without fault.

Fault. Fault was something he had doted on, many. No. Countless, immeasurable times during the last couple days. After saying those terrible things and storming off into Nobel Michael, Joshua's memories had taken a more blurry apparatus. But that was the thing about emotional memories - or flashbulb memories, as the compulsive psychoanalysts, such as Prince Wilfred would prefer - you're more inclined to recall the specific feelings you had during certain events rather than the details of the event itself.

For Joshua, he documented his rage, his sadness and somewhere in between that, envy. He envied her, envied him. For a brief period of time, he even envied every other living soul in the castle, because they hadn't witnessed the atrocious sight he had just undergone.

Prince Joshua had always been a pacifist – the war against Nerwan was, in all senses his last resort. If Prince Leonardo had not rampaged to their border with his unexpectedly advanced bombs and missiles, then perhaps he would still be securely locked away within his palace, without a care in the world, drinking his coffee and interlacing his breath with the fresh scent of coco-beans. If anything, Joshua wanted to avoid any type of conflict, for he believed that conflict lead to heightened sentiments, increased vulnerabilities.

Those who carelessly show emotions to others are easier to manipulate. They're more easily conquered. More easily hurt.

And Joshua didn't want that. Not any of it.

However, that night - three nights ago, after their reception, he truly felt the ineffable magnificence of human emotion. Granted, what pioneered his words had been anger and jealousy, but, it was nonetheless…something that he _felt. _Not referenced from some eloquent, second-hand account from his various, less-than-resourceful romance texts of the previous century.

He felt it. Everything. The unparalleled fury that channeled through his every cell, that boiled his blood and scorched his senses, that whitened his knuckles as he dug his nails within his palms. He remembered perspiring uncontrollably, followed by a potent nauseating feeling that often propelled him to clash against one of the stone columns of the corridors. To any unfortunate bystanders, the regality of the Dres Vaninan prince that night must have transformed into one tragic, doleful and without value; but for the first time since…since his parents had abandoned him as a child, Prince Joshua didn't care what others thought of him.

The collars of his royal jacket had been wrinkled by his fingers, some threads even came loose by the strength he had used.

…

Joshua couldn't quite wrap his head around how Jan managed to persuade Stephanie to return to Dres Van, but just as expected of his competent butler, she followed them back to his manse. The car ride, however, proved extraordinarily awkward. At first, Jan had attempted to lighten up the mood by shooting some jokes of the most disastrous taste – he eventually dipped in very controversial topics that even Joshua couldn't help but smack him across the head.

She didn't speak, and he held half gratification, the other half unease towards her silence. Hmph. He had thought. _Serves her right for flirting with another man. _At the time, he hadn't immediately experienced the regret he now relented, but his apathy had been balanced with a healthy diet of anger to distract his thoughts.

After they had arrived at the manor, she disappeared straight into her room, and had not uttered a sound for the rest of the night. He should know – for convenient purposes, he had arranged a room next to hers, ironically, considering he literally spent the entire night seated against the wall, _ignoring her to death. _

Thankfully, the press conferences concluded prior to the wedding ceremony; for otherwise, their efforts would have been proven worthless if the prince and his princess showed up ready to undergo a flame war. Actually, a flame war is quite inaccurate, for in Stephanie's case, she appeared more contrite than anything else, really, while Joshua's predominant state of mind had been unassailable fury.

So far, this wedding provided him nothing more than an unquenchable desire to punch the walls, and/or projectile vomiting.

…

He drummed his fingers across his desk, relishing in the smooth cadence of tapping sounds that echoed within the air. His heightened emotions now dulled, he was capable of analysing the situation more objectively, more rationally than that night. Somewhere, just somewhere, he knew that he had screwed up, that he had wronged her with his words, whether it was the severity of his assumptions or the tonality of his accusations.

But he was also resolute on not maintaining the full blame for their quarrel. If she was…just chaste enough to abstain from letting Prince Wilfred touch her like that, then there would have been no problem for disquisition in the first place. To top it off, she looked like she enjoyed his caresses…just revisiting the thought shortened his breath.

If Joshua had arrived a couple minutes later, who knows what could have happened.

…

Why was he jealous? That was the question. Prince Joshua was used to having all those that inhabited Dres Van manor succumbing to his every wish, so it was completely reasonable that he'd crater some dissonance when one of them stepped out of the line. She was just like everyone else – those who are disobedient must be punished, in one way or another.

However, what differentiated her case from any other was the intensity of his discomfort. Why, he had asked himself, why did he feel that way? She was a means of gain, ones to secure his position as crown prince, to secure Dres Van's hard-earned peace from its fizzing unrest. She was a tool, just like everything else that gone and went in his life.

Why was he attached? Joshua closed his eyes in dismay, trying his best to discount the hotness that swam within his sockets. Suddenly he felt like crying, like breaking over himself and exploding into an ocean of-

"Your Highness." The revitalizing aroma of rose tea overcame his senses, and Joshua propped his head up, his gaze meeting the earnest expression of his butler. "I have brought you your afternoon tea. These rose petals are of the finest quality. In fact, they were selected by Prince Edward himself.

"Hm" was all he could utter he tentatively received the carnation engraved tea cup from Jan's hands. He gave it but a fleeting taste before setting it down on his coaster-less desk, his expression one of discomfort, of disgruntlement.

Jan blinked, "Your Highness, is something the matter?"

"No." that was a lie. Another lie. It seems like for the past couple days, all Joshua did was lie. He lied whenever someone asked if there was something wrong, or if there was something on his mind that he refused to confide in even his closest companions. Due to his ambiguous depression, the entire castle had been shrouded in an atmosphere of restlessness and agitation, much like the effects of the fog that distorted the clear skylines.

Jan gave his Prince another prolonged look, his wisterian eyes slowly dawning with understanding. Eventually he smiled, a hearty smile that dimpled his cheeks as he said, his voice no longer prevailed with the inferior tone he laboured with his master, but of an equal nature, like manner in which the closest of friends would disclose their secrets.

"Prince Joshua," Jan at last dropped his tiresome honorifics, "Charles' rose tea may be revitalizing, but by no means is it the cure for a broken heart."

_A broken heart? What the hell was Jan talking about? _Joshua looked up, suddenly aware of Jan's concerned features, and the slightly contorted twitch of his mouth. "What are you implying?"

His steward stepped forward, "What I'm saying is, that it is no longer the tension between Nerwan and Dres Van that bothers you, correct?"

…

Seconds drone on as if centuries.

…

Finally and reluctantly, Joshua nodded, his eyes falling once again to his beloved mahogany desk. "You're right."

"And if I may be bold enough to venture, what troubles you so heavily is a certain princess that resides in this very castle."

_Was it truly that obvious? _"No. I don't care about her." he said, unaware of how childish he sounded in his weak denial.

Jan shook his head, wearing a somewhat exasperated smile as he replied, "Please be honest, Prince Joshua. I'm sure she feels just as bad as you present yourself to be."

…

A glimmer of hope dissolved the dark clouds that cloaked Joshua's heart. "How would you know that?"

"Because, my prince. You've been changing, little by little since Her Highness Stephanie arrived at the castle." Jan inhaled lightly, and blinked adoringly at Joshua, "There's something different about you. Everyone sees it, Prince Joshua, everyone aside from yourself."

…

"There's something…different about me?" He couldn't exactly pinpoint what Jan had meant. Of course, it was hardly possible to distance himself from subjectivity, so there was almost no way to determine the coordinates of this infamous 'change'. Though, he did admit that he no longer preferred reading his newspapers in the morning – for it _obscured his exclusive view of her face…_

_Wait, what?_

"Yes." Jan's widespread fingers, ones that pressed tightly against his desk entered the prince's vision, prompting Joshua to raise his head perplexedly, encountering transparent amethysts with the richest tanzanites.

"You're more alive, Prince Joshua. She's only been here for a week, but you've already become a new person. You're finally permitting yourself to enjoy life instead of refraining from hedonistic pleasures. It's like you've awakened from a deep slumber that's haunted you your entire life, Your Highness." He breathed, locking his eyes in Prince Joshua's, his irises irrevocably that of a mesmerist's.

"If that's not love." He said, his voice tinged with an abundance of expectation, "Then I have never seen true devotion."

**Chapter VIII**

_"If that's not love." Jan had said, his voice an emollient to Joshua's furiously thundering heart. It was as if his every syllable, every word daggered deep into the depths of his soul, ridding him of breath, depleting him of the obstinate dignity that swelled every cell of his body. He looked away, desperate to ascertain lucid grounds, something firm and concrete that he possessed knowledge, possessed control over. The skies were still clouded, and without his glasses, every corner, every lining that constrained his vision was marred with a twin shadow of itself – unclear, redundant, and without necessity. _

"Then I have never seen true devotion." Nothing of Jan's voice was contrived. He sounded powerful, of an august majesty that was only exhibited within the most unbound of royal stranding. Those like his father, those like the sovereigns of Liberty and Oriens, and for a brief yet prominent period in the past, prior to Stephanie's arrival in the manse, like himself. For Joshua never idolized without purpose – he strived to personify his beliefs of perfection, and modeled himself after the stoic heroes that he learned of as a child.

However, Jan's message was so undisputable that…that Joshua couldn't help but believe it, _accept it _himself. An idle silence came within his office as he sat, his expression solemn, devoid of life and color, but at the same time replete of something indecipherable. Something that boiled beneath his skin, ephemerally perspired the passions of his heart; something that dissipated the fog that protruded his mind, approbating his subconscious susurrus and at last manifesting the latent.

"I…" his words were stuck at his throat. He believed their veracity, now more than ever, but somehow, he couldn't say it out loud. Voicing one's thoughts confirms their existence, but also challenges one's courage of shattering the illusive, idyllic pastels that they so painfully constructed. The same logic applies to Prince Joshua, for by admitting these feelings of his, he also exposes himself, the lonesome, vulnerable prince that resisted for so long underneath his icy chrysalis…

"Your Highness?" Jan peeked, concerned with his master's sudden ineloquence. "Are you alright?"

He couldn't have anticipated what came next, so it was very much justifiable that the Dres Vaninan High Steward laughed in awe when his prince's jaw dropped in conflating dismay and…well, dismay.

"Prince Joshua." he breathed, "Are you feeling alright? Can I bring you something to drink?"

Joshua blinked absently to himself, and upon absorbing Jan's words cast a stolen glance towards the cooling teacup at his side. "No. I'm not thirsty."

"If you are indeed alright, Your Highness, then pray listen to what I have to say next." The seriousness of Jan's tone caught Joshua's attention. He promptly raised his head once more, keenly scanning his butler's features with adequate mental exertion, for anything worth documenting, or perhaps evaluating.

"Speak."

"Very well then." Joshua watched as Jan courteously placed his fingers over his heart – a gesture of gallant serenity, of veneration, of…_kindness. _"I know very well the dilemmas that Your Highness strives to deal with, but you must realize that the key to solving them lies in reconciling with Her Highness Stephanie. Without the heart of the people, we are completely incompetent in our own devices."

"I am well aware of that." Prince Joshua descended his heat to his arms, and buried his face in the languorous, soap-scented ruffles of his snow-shaded sweater. Jan was right – he needed to resolve the quandary between himself and Stephanie. Whether or not he loved her was completely out of the question, though, he did admit sheepishly to himself, that if he indeed harbored genuine feelings for her, then perhaps…for once, he would be happier, and less deliberate in admitting his flaws.

"My Prince." Jan's voice was marred, filtered through the material of Joshua's clothing. "I don't understand why you continue to lie to yourself."

He paused, as if awaiting an indignant repercussion on the prince's part. Sensing none emerging, he sighed in relief before continuing, "The mending of a broken heart is the most painful, but the ignorance of one's feelings is the most _pitiful. _Do you not see the gifted coincidence that lies behind the surface? You have already secured Princess Stephanie in wedlock, and would it not be absolutely godsend that you developed emotions for her? Everything's falling impeccably into place, Your Highness, it's time to wake up and face it."

_Since when did Jan possess the nerve to talk to him like one of his subordinates? _Although Joshua experienced scintillations of disgruntlement, he didn't admonish his butler, for the subject at hand was far more imperative than his personal discontent. "You don't understand," he said, his obscured voice prompting Jan to lean in closer, "We agreed strictly that our marriage would annul the moment the Nerwan unrests are neutralized. Whether or not I have feelings for her is unrelated to the matter-"

His statement was interrupted by a firm placement of Jan's hand on his shoulder. Joshua could sense his warmth, even through the combined layers of his shirts, his…companion's cordiality radiated akin to a second sun, one clear without the dubiousness of fog. "That's because Your Highness hadn't given her a reason to stay."

Joshua raised his head, perplexed. "What do you mean."

"There is no such thing as an unconquerable heart." In that moment, Jan sounded unconceivably wise, as if he had accumulated several millennia of ancient wisdom into a lissome and immortal body. It was unfamiliar, the way he suddenly sequestered the ability to detangle the knots of Joshua's mind – but he didn't mind it, for a confidante that could distinguish his insecurities was, albeit his restlessness something he required without argument. "Please do not take offence when I say this, Your Highness, but Princess Stephanie does not encompass a heart of ice. I personally find her more agreeable than most girls her age, not to mention she's much more articulate, and indefinitely more poised."

_Well, he did have a point, just not the one Joshua was looking for. _"Don't be vague. What is your suggestion?"

"It sounds simpler than it shall play out, Your Highness." He said, an impish smile upcurving his lips, "You need to apologize to her."

_What!? Oh in the name of Holy Nobel Michael…_"No. That's implausible. What's your plan B, Jan."

To his dread, Jan shook his head, hyperbolically in satirical revulsion. "There is no alternative, Your Highness. As the man in your marriage, it's your duty to confront your wife in times of hardship, especially, but correct me if I wrong you, since she's emotionally susceptible because of the things you said."

_Emotionally susceptible? _He mouthed the words to himself, slowly so that his mind could comprehend them with lucidity. _Was she truly that…hurt by what he had said?_ He blinked, his eyes widening, at last realizing the repercussions of his outburst of madness – not only did he potentially jeopardize their long-term agreement to restore balance to their kingdoms, but he also, might, have…_broke her. _Somehow, the very thought dispensed a prominent sadness, one that caused his heart to increase in a rapid accelerando, prompting him to shoot up swiftly from his desk in order to conceal his discernibly huffing chest.

"What do I have to do?"

Jan smiled, and an instant of synchronized mysticism, a brilliant ray of enchanting gold escaped the nebulous fog outside his window, fragmenting the impending aura around them with splendid hope.

"Do you trust me, Your Highness?"

Without a second of hesitation, Joshua nodded, bobbing his head eagerly up and down, his fiery violet bangs brushing ethereally against his sculpted cheekbones.

"Then leave everything to me." His butler said. Then, as if suddenly recalling something of the utmost significance, he slammed his fist against his palm.

"Your Highness, I believe it's almost time for Christmas, isn't it?"

"Jan" he breathed, irritation evident in the manifold creases upon his forehead, "Are you sure that this is going to work?"

They were outside Stephanie's bedroom – the Dres Vaninan prince in his solitary trepidation, and his immaculately smiling butler whose eyes glistened of expectancy. Within Joshua's hands held a large bouquet of roses, which, under Jan's advice revealed to be her favorite flower of choice. A dichotomy of demure pink and sensual crimson adorned the center of his velvet bouquet, while its ends were fastened elegantly with a bow of crafted wisteria. Apparently, the Nerwans believed that attaching one's national flower to every gift presented was both a gesture of respect towards the receiver, and a symbol of sophistication and immutable hospitality. As a member of their royal family, Stephanie appeared more sensitive to such proprieties, and thankfully, Joshua had Jan to prevent him from making a complete fool of himself.

Not entirely, at least. The fierce, unyielding Dres Vanian prince was utterly unaccustomed to any sort of repentance, or any admission of guilt on his part. Even if he stumbled upon incidents that traced its faults back to him, he under all circumstances expected others to apologize to him instead of the other way around. He was crown prince, the highest order of authority inside his hollow manor…those who resided underneath his roof were below him. Exhibiting any penitence was foreign to Joshua - it defied his pride, his stately position; however, it also contributed to his much distorted techniques of social interaction. For, when he had first attended the academy, his obdurate, wordless stoicism displaced him from all its other pupils, save for Prince Leonardo, who for an interval in the past shared his mighty arrogance.

…

He hadn't realized the reminiscing sentiments the sight of her door elicited. He thought of her brother, of the political, art and literature discussions they had collectively enjoyed, of the querulous nature of his character, of his vibrant ochre hair…they, he and Stephanie, resembled one another, though only through the ties of genetic heritance. No matter what perspective one took in observing the siblings, they would unanimously conclude that Stephanie was a much, much greater person than her brother, even despite her unexperienced age and somewhat flamboyant personality.

She had edge, and not the malicious jealousy and ceaseless competitiveness of her brother. She knew of justice and sacrifice, which were abstract notions that never had crossed Prince Leonardo's mind. Not once, not in his entire life.

She was the unadulterated light to his cunning darkness, the imperishable flame to his obscuring hurricanes. They were different, Joshua deducted in astonishment. For quite a while now, he had been equating her with 'the female version of Leonardo of Nerwan'. He desensitized her, subjected her to an oblivious title without consent, and yet somehow she managed to put up with his haughty airs and menacing tongue…how did she do it?

_She really was something. _His heart swarmed with gratification, but also immense regret of his insolent actions – he had been present for what definitely was the majority of her conversation with the Philipean Prince, and yet he still consciously chose to take his anger out on her. Of course, choice implies rationality, as well as implies clear conspicuousness of the situation, which he forsook immediately when Wilfred ventured to touch her upon the-

"Your Highness." Prince Joshua was brutally snapped out of his relapse by a disapproving Jan. "I don't recommend entering her room with that expression on your face."

_What was he talking about? _"What do you mean?"

Jan blinked, appeared as if semi-astounded by Joshua's lack of understanding. "I apologize in advance for what I'm about to say, but your expression resembles the grim reaper directly after he steals one's soul from their dying body."

Joshua stood, stunned for a couple seconds before contorting his lips into a grotesque smile, like the insensible, visceral organs of cattle shortly after dissection. Ignoring the bitter taste in his mouth and Jan's blatant shock, he knocked, hard against her door frame before he could change his mind and potentially coward out.

…

She didn't immediately respond. Instead, Joshua detected some faint shuffling noises inside her door, like she was personally renovating the interior of her room. He wasn't particularly fond of the prospect, considering that he went through the personal trouble of designing every individual chamber of the manor when he assumed its ownership. He remembered the long and sleepless nights, when he had stumbled listlessly over various sketches and concepts until he stood satisfied with their unimpeachable symmetry and linings. To Prince Joshua, beauty was never truly something immaterial and unachievable – it was just, very simply overrated.

_But then again, he was only ten, which made his tastes in design of somewhat questionable quality. _

"Come in." she said. Her voice sounded infinitely less agitated. Spontaneous, even, and Joshua couldn't help but leap his heart in joy. _Would that mean that her anger had finally subsided?_

Slowly and deliberately, as if handling something of the most delicate nature, he twisted the brass knob in his hand and entered, with Jan as his loyal shadow but several steps behind him.

The impact of her abundant fluorescent lights immediately blinded him, propelling him to raise his hands in protest, attempting to shield his eyes from the painful rays of white. _How on earth did she acquire such a large amount of light bulbs without him noticing? _It must have been Jan, he angrily deducted, all the while stumbling backwards due to his temporary incapability of navigation. Scantily did he see, once removed from the blinding spotlight a myriad of lamps, all of the most elaborate, most _original _designs he had ever witnessed. They rounded her entire bedroom – from the small spaces between her bed and her closet, even stemming to inside the entrance of her washroom. There were large, colored portfolios of embroideries draped over her couches and armchairs, some unfinished and still consisting of half-hidden needles stabbed within.

Joshua blinked thrice before fully adjusting his vision. Finally, he managed to spotted her in a chair farthest from the window, encompassed by shadows and in unwavering concentration as she worked over a piece of cloth. It was…faintly nostalgic, its imbricated patterns and the niveous floral designs. He had definitely seen it somewhere before, though he couldn't possibly imagine when or where, or how he had trampled upon that particular happening…

"What do you want, Lieben?" she said, practically dripping of acid. _Great, so she had reverted back to addressing him with his last name instead of …nevermind._

He stepped inside once more, careful not to patently encounter the blinding luminescence of her arrangement. It was as if she architected a trap at the entrance of her room to warn of any unwelcomed intruders, or, more specifically, the prince himself. "We need to talk."

Stephanie didn't look up as she retorted, "Very well then, what do you want to talk about?" Joshua stood aghast: for she wasn't wrathful, nor excessively commanding in tone and spirit, but comprised of such a tranquility, such nonchalance that it made her infinitely more frightening. He supressed the urge to sharply inhale when she settled her project gingerly in her lap, and as her curls sprang up to greet his eyes, the incontestable lump in his throat suddenly revived, in all its grandeur.

_What the hell was he supposed to say now?_

His spirit sank lower as she scrutinized him with careful suspicion. "Whatever you want to say," she mouthed, her rosy lips more tantalizing underneath the intersecting light wreckages, "Make it quick. In case you haven't noticed, I'm really busy."

… "I'm here to apologize." He knew that he elisioned his last couple words, a necessary sacrifice to prevent himself from entering another rhapsodic episode of questionable pride and nobility.

She cocked her brow at him, her fire-y irises calm and resplendent, as if…as if she had already forgiven him. "You're here to what? Speak up, I can't hear you over the loud bouquet of roses you're carrying." She stood up, and whilst clutching her creation glided into the center of the room, abandoning the farthest archipelago of her lamps.

It wasn't until Jan softly clicked shut the door did Joshua acknowledge his absence. Much to his apprehension, the perspiration he had worn layers to mask resurfaced upon his skin once more, somewhat ridding him the princely aura that he approved at all times. He could feel heat – scorching, strong, irrevocably crimson interweaving his cheeks, painting his pale complexion with unwanted streaks of color that he'd give anything to retain in desuetude.

This time, he said his every word slowly, elucidating its every last segment with the utmost clarity.

"I'm here to apologize."

What was amazingly theatrical about her next statement lay in her obviousness to his convictions. For she blinked, her features the untainted epitome of innocence as she enquired, "Apologize for what?"

…

"Apologize for my outburst the day of our wedding." He outstretched his hands, and mustered the most sincere smile he could attain at the moment. "These are for you."

She looked up at him. Joshua could sense the temperature in the room drop, its sudden coolness mirroring the hardening of her expression, desultorily into a subject that he should not have repeated, for his own sake more so than hers. "What, are you trying to bride me?"

"That depends," he said, hoping desperately that his trembling voice hadn't betrayed his otherwise insouciant image. "If you accept them, then yes. If not, then I'm merely carrying these around for aesthetic purposes."

He couldn't describe his relief when she reached out and grasped the bouquet, liberating him from its soft and slightly ticklish weight. Through their transition, airy, evanescent vestiges of floral redolence traversed roguishly into his nostrils, and Joshua couldn't help but draw a comparison between her scent of peonies and wisteria to the monarch of the flower kingdom. He decided that instead of the extravaganza of crimson roses, he preferred a scent more docile, more…revitalizing.

"Thank you," she said, and lowered her pretty head to inhale the bouquet's aroma. "My guess is that Jan told you that the rose is my favorite flower. He's not very discrete, you know, unless you swear him into secrecy, he's likely to transfer information between parties without any hazardous moral struggle."

She said it like her preference in flowers was something extraordinarily clandestine. Making a mental note to ask her another day, Joshua hooked his thumbs through his belt loops and commenced a hard stare, directed exclusively at her face. He half-expected her to blush in embarrassment – that would surely ease matters up for him; however, just like the unpredictability that so exuberantly depicted within her brother, she didn't respond the way he desired her to.

Instead, she raised her brow in a rather insulting fashion, before retorting in a menacing, disgusted cavatina. "What the hell are you doing? If you're practicing heat vision, Lieben, my lamps will burn a hole through you much quicker than you'll do it yourself."

_Oh in the name of- _"That's not what I was doing!" He bellowed, his anger excessive over plebeian phrases.

"Oh, then pray tell", she challenged, stepping closer to him. "Then what were you doing? Were you so ineffably mesmerized by my beauty that your eyes just couldn't help themselves? Tell you what" she glistened her nails underneath the spotlight, and curled her fingers to showcase just exactly how sharply trimmed they were, "If you're really that attracted to me, then how about I scratch your eyes out of their sockets and wear them around like a charm bracelet?"

_What? _For once, his bewilderment was of a natural, mundane reaction to something unexpected. Still, the fact that he permitted a nineteen year old girl to push his buttons so practicedly fumed his mind, and despite his preceding resolution to confront her magnanimously, he backed away, ferociously narrowing his brows.

"That's unnecessary. I wouldn't want to be perpetually glued to your wrists, looking only at your dull and dreary face for the rest of eternity."

She blinked, obviously surprised. Victory, sweet, sweet victory soared through his heart, but before he had time to relish in his short-discovered triumph, she snapped her fingers vulgarly in his face.

"If we're really entering an ugly competition, then there's no doubt that you'd win." She spat.

It took Prince Joshua several seconds to comprehend the subtle undertone of her missive. Suddenly acutely self-conscious, he retorted, "What are you-"

"Don't waste my time, Lieben." She interrupted, her fingers around the wisterian knot tightening, "If you have nothing constructive to say, then leave. I still have several dozens of lamps to finish."

That reminded him of his confusion when he first stepped into her bedroom. During his entire life, he had not seen such a large array of lamps concentrated in one restricted space. She said she made them themselves – but that was a dangerous generalization, for she personally created only their veils, coverings, or whatever the commonfolk preferred to recognize them as. "Businesses in the castle are strictly prohibited. Consider taking your sales elsewhere."

She snorted, and looked up at him alluringly through her lashes. Joshua was almost 100% sure that the implications of her actions were purely unintentional; however despite everything, the very sight of her cascaded irises still…_aroused, aggravated his rationale. _"Says who? I doubt your precious Dres Vaninan royal accords covers marketing within the Lieben Manse. But," she added, rather absent mindedly to herself, "If they did, then it would undoubtedly be the stupidest regulation up to point."

_Did she just insult the Dres Vaninan constitution? _His eyebrows twitched, much too obviously for his comfort. "Says I," he said, assembling much authority, threatening to overpower her impudence with sheer regality. "The ruler of the castle has administrative powers over everything that transpires on its grounds. So if I don't agree, you're basically powerless."

That, seemed to have finally captured her delicate attention. There was fire in her eyes as she stormed over, refusing to relent even when her chest was but inches from Joshua's own, once again reddening the bashful prince's cheeks with pale maroon penumbras. He stepped back, holding his breath as she continued to push him forward, and she didn't stop until his back collided roughly against her walls.

Before he knew it, she had obtained a stable grasp on the material of scarf and hauled his face towards hers, in such evocative proximity that it was definitely misleading. Her breath, although warm was icy, and despite their closeness, Joshua failed to detect her body heat. It was as if she was a statue – a glorious, adroit stature that was cohesive in diction and thought, but like all other marble-cared conceptions, cold and callous.

"Have you forgotten, Joshua Lieben, that I am now the mistress of your precious castle?" she sneered, "Should have rethought that before you forced me to marry you. But just like you, Mr. Crown Prince, I also can control the mechanisms of the castle, because last time I checked, the Dres Vaninan royal family are the greatest proponents of gender equality."

_He knew that instituting that policy would come back and bite him in undesirable regions. _He didn't respond, which prompted her to retract her steps and turn away from him, her long crimson gown trailing ostentatiously behind her feet. Without the robotic rhythm of her clicking heels, she appeared shorter, more elfin in her soft disposition…he didn't know how long he watched her shadow, or how many mornings he had surreptitiously doted upon her during breakfast. For by then, he slowly realized that she was familiar, familiar like a routine, like Jan, like his parents, like his maids and servants, like the landscape that he gazed out of the window every passing day. She had somehow merged into the castle scenery, into his life as an elegant trespasser, a force to be reckoned with.

However, most importantly, she occupied a valiant chamber of his heart. An indescribable surge of magnificent emotions overcame him as he watched her perch herself on a couch, bathing in the afternoon light, a disguised Artemis, whose silver rose awaits the nightingale's song. She then blossoms, and in darkness unearths her lunar glory, an incandescent beacon to the lost creatures of the forest. Was this what Jan defined as 'love'?

He couldn't immediately match the pieces of this puzzle; however, what he did discover right there and then was that she was important to him. More important than anyone had ever been to him, and perhaps more prominent then anyone shall ever be.

He knew that these emotions weren't a placebo – they didn't simply come induced by their union, nor did they originate from envy, from the night that Prince Wilfred had so audaciously caressed her cheekbones. No.

It was none of that.

"Stephanie." He said, "I'm sorry for saying those things after our wedding reception."

She halted her handicraft, but his words weren't enough persuasion for her to collect his gaze. "Why are you apologizing?"

He walked in her direction, and knelt before her, earnest amethyst desperately beseeching tranquil amber. He knew, perhaps better than anyone that those of royal standing should now capitulate to their knees, no matter how much the situation demanded that they abandon their backbone. He didn't care. "I take back those things. My presumptions were unnecessary and completely…"

She raised her lashes at him, "And completely…"

He couldn't find the right word. No matter how much he wished for repentance, he couldn't seem to muster the self-loathing to successfully mock himself. "Impulsive."

He held his breath as she washed her felicitous gaze over his features, for a prolonged, pregnant moment before a phantom of a smile flashed across her lips. "I appreciate the sentiment, Joshua, but it's not me that you should apologize to, but Wilfred. If my memory doesn't fail me, then you definitely declared war against Philip."

_Had he? _Prince Joshua looked down at his hands, humiliated at the accusatory nature of her statement. _Had he really been so blindly jealous that he nearly ignited a controversy that could have brought his kingdom to ruins? _His cheeks burned, and in a hopeless attempt to retrieve the final portion of his dignity, he swiftly changed the subject.

"You never told me why you're making so many lamps." She brushed an orange tendril away from her nose.

"That's because you've never asked." upon witnessing his resentful glare, she laughed, a hearty, euphonious sound that warmed Joshua right to the core. "But to answer your question, these are to be sent back to Nerwan Castle. Kind of like…a thank you gift to my staff for sending the countless bouquets of wisteria under such short notice."

_What was she talking about? _"Wisteria? And why lamps in particular?"

She pointed a slim finger at her closet. Joshua could somewhat see several remaining bouquets of flowers amidst her various gowns, which apparently were all of various shades of red. "Most of them were used during the wedding ceremony. I'm actually surprised that there's some left even after the extravaganza we went through. And lamps because we seldom have sunshine in Nerwan, so it's like a national symbol. Almost like…roses to Charles, and tatami to Oriens"

_It really wasn't that extravagant. _Another question flashed in his mind as he enquired"Why are you thanking your staff? You're their princess, it's their duty to fulfill your every need."

She rolled her eyes at him, a gesture that Joshua identified as quite endearing. "This is why all your staff fear you, Joshua." He hadn't noticed until then, that somewhere during their conversation, she had converted back to the employment of her first name. The revelation bestowed upon him an odd sense of contentment, and he blushed, like a schoolgirl who just received a rose from her secret crush. "You're not considerate enough of their feelings. You honestly can't expect absolute obedience through channelling fear. There needs to be a healthy balance of munificence to emphasize authority."

"You sound like Prince Edward." To his surprise, she shook her head in rejection, her vivacious curls languidly shivering in the process.

"Princess Catherine Alford of Liberty." _That was right, Joshua had no idea that she was so well acquainted with the Alford royal house. In fact, Joshua was almost completely certain that Prince Keith fostered an anonymous something for her…_

He was just about to ask when she stood up once more, and pointed pitilessly to the exit. "Your point has been delivered, Prince Joshua. Now, you need to leave."

Her tone was so irretrievably unaffected that he cringed inwardly, at awe at her returning hostility. Though, despite everything, her original insipidness was replaced with a feeling more relaxed, one more befitting her youth.

He couldn't help but inquire, "Are you still angry?"

"Angry?" she repeated, rapidly blinking as if an admonished child, "I was never angry in the first place. I have better things to do than obsess over your outbursts, and now that you've apologized, I'm not going to dwell on the subject further. There really is no point in doing so."

"Besides," she said, and raised both hands on his chest to push him outside the door. Although her limbs were slim, her footsteps lilt and delicate, the strengths of her palms were _unpredictably_ strong…he never knew that such power could be condensed into such a shapely body, especially one he hadn't yet…yet.

"What you don't care about can't hurt you. No offense, Lieben, but I don't really care what you think." She said as she brusquely shoved him outside her door, and finalized her defense before he could properly regain his balance.

"I'm only here to act as a token of faith, or anti-faith, whatever you want to call of for the people of Nerwan. Our marriage is nothing more than an illusion to fool them into accepting peace. It's pretty simple. I don't intend to be friends, nor do I really care what you wish to do with me. However, Nerwan is my duty, and I shall place their welfare above all and against all. So" she pointed a stiff finger to his nose, "If you want to obstruct my path, then I won't hesitate a second to bring turmoil to Dres Van, in the name of its Crown Princess." And with that, just like her gentleness, she disappeared behind another separating film, alienating Joshua from what would have been a golden opportunity.

…

_Click. _For the second time in his life, it wasn't he that faded from someone else's world, but another who chose to abandon him in a time of weakness.

He couldn't help his dejection. He had been so certain that he was going to tell her his one secret, the one confidential phrase that haunted him for days now, the one statement that solidified, confirmed during their brief conversation. He was going to tell her, _he wanted to tell her, more than he had ever wanted anything. _

He was going to tell her that he loved her, that he finally knew that, with steadfast, absolute certainty.

But alike the rain that silently resumed outside the senseless stone of his manor, his attempt would have been, ultimately ineffectual.

…

_He didn't realize that his hand had involuntarily flown to his heart. But he felt it, the surge of pain that he wished to anesthetize. _

_ It…kinda hurt._

**Chapter IX **

The fog had diminished, and yet the rain persisted.

However this time, the rain was merely a drizzle. It didn't obscure the skies as they did late November, nor did they possess the otherworldly quality of transcending one's vision. You could no longer, with even the most capable of imaginations envision a nebulous heaven upon the clouds, as the small, transparent beads dispensed the horizons with a view of undeniable realism. Sometimes, without the impression of surrealism, one's fancies are in turn impeded, and limited only to the worldly sights that are perceivable to the naked eye.

Prince Joshua could see, at the edge of the colossal boundlessness of his land a silver thread, one that separated the offing oceans with the gloomy grey skies. It was a mystical thing – that in its thinness marked the corners of the earth, the margins of sight. It was where the imagination would overpower vision, where one's consciousness would dominate over sensation, thus juxtaposing one's existence in an adjournment of illusions and actualities. The notion was oddly romantic to the disconsolate prince, for it gave him faith, faith in attaining the unattainable, and conquering the unsurmountable.

Faith was a foreign thing to Joshua. In his twenty-four year long life, he had never believed in anything but himself. It must have stemmed back to his childhood abandonment issues, but that particular affixation of his had in its propensity grown over the years, and eventually blossomed into an indispensable faction of his character. Though, he had never regarded it a drawback: the satisfaction he received when he accomplished one of his goals was mesmerising, addictive, even.

Faith, had always been a state of mind moderately short of necessary. Joshua had always been an atheist – faith invested in a higher, perpetually unprovable greater power, was pathetic in a certain connotation. One needed not to believe in anything aside from themselves, and to delude otherwise was merely superficial refuge to distract them from the true horrors of life. He didn't want, and neither required any of that – that's why he had ceaselessly transformed himself into a figure worth reverencing, worth acknowledging, but most importantly, worth believing in.

He was his own god, and he would only ever depend on himself.

…

But sometimes, without faith, we lose recognition of what to fear. Without a higher, greater power to encompass and direct our principles, we can no longer acquire stable foundations to erect and sustain our portrayals of the world as we know it. Sometimes, without faith, our trepidations become irrational in causality, inexplicable in reason, and unexplainable in motive. Sometimes, without faith, we lose control of our fears. And sometimes, in the case of a specific amethyst-haired price, that in the absence of divine assistance, he's no longer able to summon the intractable confidence that defined him a majestic royal.

He couldn't recall the exact date in which he truly fell, irrevocably and uncontrollably in love with her. Perhaps it was when she was bathed in the diaphanous sunlight, clothed stunningly in that sumptuous dress of unadulterated white. Her eyes had shone like an ancient fire of crimson and gold, of a bewitching madness that paralleled her to the beatific of a celestial goddess in her immortal glory. His breath had been caught in his throat, and his heart had thundered with the most potent desire he had ever endured…Or maybe, it had been when she, with her rapid-fire wit and impeccable talents as a thespian connived Prince Keith into conforming to their falsified devotion. Prince Keith Alford's acute intelligence and agile deductions were creatively unsurpassable, and yet, she was able to convince him otherwise in but a few efficient words and a tantalizing smile.

…or maybe. It had been the first time he laid eyes on her, when he had hypocritically denied the idea of love at first sight. She was gorgeous, that prudent, hypnotizing girl, but due to his personal convictions, he had persuaded himself otherwise, completely ignoring the lustrous tones of her pale skin, at the time skimpily clad in a single bathrobe. He recalled rejecting her beauty, and concentrating only on the malicious, bell-like soprano of her voice…for a princess, her tongue was sharp, not the point of challenging etiquette, but definitively crossed the ideals of conventional nobility.

But it no longer mattered, did it? He loved her, and that was the finality of his predicament. His insensate, innate desire of triumphing over Nerwan all came down to her, and somehow, though some incredible gift, he made it work – he would no longer experience the dissonance that dominated his mind whenever he would speak to her, nor the painful bile that bubbled within his throat when she defined his demands.

However, much to his consternation, she didn't feel the same way. For the past couple days, their interaction had been once again painfully confined to fleeting symposiums during breakfast, where after a few casual greetings of the most basic courtesy, she would divert her attention to Jan, abandoning Joshua in solidary seclusion and indescribable envy. He knew of Jan's loyalty, especially in the subject of retaining within the lines of decency; however, despite all that, he still couldn't swallow his meals without the bitter feeling resurfacing on his tongue. He had long forsook his habit of engaging with his lifeless newspaper at the table, all because he knew that she found it unappealing, and at times, if she's rather in the conversational mood, the national news would immediately encumber potential discourse.

Jan had advised him to take the first step, small steps that would eventually cumulate to something great, something worthwhile to make as a significant milestone in their tragic love epic. Unlike his faithful butler, Joshua's emotions remained deadpan, chaotic and unruly, even when she would radiantly smile and curtsey in the manor corridors, but those were, after all, on average, less frequent occurrences. The small gesture would illuminate Joshua's day, however, her intentions, when filtered through the Dres Vaninan Prince's compulsive skepticism was rendered ambiguous, magical even. But, this exactly deprivation of causation was what prompted his futility – she was unpredictable, too unpredictable for his unamiable tolerance.

What could he do? For once, Prince Joshua felt lost, incompetent, and somewhat worthless in spirit. He would, if the circumstances demanded, submerge himself in the oblivion of his amassing documents in attempt to distract himself from his effervescent desires. However, the art behind repression was that the more one induces oneself to forget, the more those latent retentions resurface, with ferociously prominent intensity than they had ever before. He knew that, which was why he permitted himself to sire these emotions of his, precisely for the purpose of not augmenting them further.

…

Albeit his discontent, Joshua had to begrudgingly admit that he wanted to see her, that the wish to once again hear her mellifluous voice and her equally contagious laughter. Usually, private contractions wouldn't even bear the remotes of sovereigns against official duties, but in her case, the political and the private fused into one, an aspect that received Joshua's infinite gratefulness.

Indecision was a dictated trait among Joshua's social strata, however, when indecision was purely unintentional, and also irrepressible, would it still be frowned upon?

…

Earlier that morning, he had acquired a stem of wisteria from Jan, and had arranged it to his left-hand side, so that he wouldn't disturb the tranquil flower while he signed and reviewed his tasks. It reminded him of her, that idle flower that held the resilience to survive the most violent of storms, and the most turbulent of winter tempests…Winter was upon them. All the vegetation would retrieve into hibernation, ridding the world of their vibrant colors until their fated revivals early-spring. Yet, the wisteria was the sole shade of violet that painted the bleak skylines vivacious, the one flower that persevered through the blinding snow, while even the carnation, Dres Van's national flower retired into a realm of safety.

He blinked, a couple time to regain a sense of reality before descending his attention to the papers before him, now spread out in a shambolic field of white that, in all irony resembled snow. Hadn't he always been one organized and immaculate?

…

It took him another couple seconds to perceive the ethereal knocking on his door perceptible. _How did anyone possess the nerve to interrupt him while he was so preoccupied with his official duties?_

"Come in." he said irritably, already formulating a mental representation of how he'd chastise his intruder for interrupting his focus.

He didn't raise his head in acknowledgement when his door clicked open; however, the surely _magical _aroma of his invader preceded her in a floral innuendo that effortlessly obliterated his concentration. Prince Joshua's heart was earnest as he glanced up at her, still undeveloped in valor to reveal his infatuation. Instead, he clouded his elatedness with the hard-pressed line of his lips, and half-open, dreamily lethargic eyes, ones that looked as if a cub just released of hibernation.

"Stephanie," he absolutely adored the way her name rolled off his tongue. There was a strange harmonious quality of it, one made deeper, more profound with his tenor. "What can I do for you?"

He noticed that within her comely arms held a stack of papers, a volume she promptly jogged over to his desk and slammed against smooth mahogany. "These" she pointed a long, manicured nail in their direction, "Are summaries of the press receptions of our wedding ceremony."

That was quick. He retrieved the top most folders at once and avidly scanned his gaze through their swirling contents. _Wow, for once, Prince Joshua Lieben was amazed at the productivity of another human being, other than himself. _"Impressive work, did you do these all yourself?" he commented, but couldn't bring himself to look her in the eye.

She drummed her fingers in a cadenced adagio on his desk. "Jan was a great help, though I'll admit that I completed the majority of them independently." _Someone wasn't very modest in their accomplishments, though, not that he minded. Not one bit._

He picked up another, utterly astonished at not only how believable their phony wedding was, but also her efficiency in going through all of them under such short notice. Hell, there must have been several dozens of journals, just from their thirteen minute long press conference alone – and without excluding newspapers and news broadcasts, especially when complied with the other five kingdoms…_wow. _

_ Their wedding was, in the very literal denotation of the word an inarguable success. Despite their joined, and much disfigured definition of 'holy matrimony', the public had purchased their lie without any signs of materializing doubt. Some even went as far to praise them as 'the most perfect union the world has ever witnessed'. Of course, Princess Stephanie and her dress was now featured repetitively upon every single teen-trend magazine circulating Dres Van, along with numerous international gossip magazines of Altaria and Liberty, the latter one venturing to re-emerge the relations of the Nerwan royal house and the prestigious Alfords. There was also a highlighted section on Nerwan: apparently the citizens of the lost kingdom gathered __**and paraded down their capital in celebration**__…_

Much to Joshua's surprise, his nightmare had not manifested – she remained her reputation as the beloved princess of Nerwan, receiving narrowly any negative reviews from its civilians. In fact, if anything, her union with the Dres Vaninan Crown Prince just credited her with more veneration than ever before.

_ Thankfully, none of them seemed to have caught the little quarrel between Prince Wilfred and himself; however, there was this one press that speculated 'the indescribable chemistry between Dres Van's Crown Princess and the Philipean Crown Prince'. With the caption accompanied a shot of her dance with Wilfred, shortly before they had departed to the balconies of Nobel Michael…_

Joshua shook his head in dismay. The assumptions of the public, he knew, were always just unfulfilled imaginations destined to make themselves feel better in the face of glamor. It was merely psychological appeasement to reduce the gap between fantasies and fulfillments, something that rulers like him shouldn't invest to much emotional stamina.

However, alike all his predicaments for the past couple days, whenever matters became even distantly related to her, he forfeited all his prided intellectual aptitudes. Joshua's throat suddenly became immensely dry, and before he knew it, he had reached over to icy handle of his teacup and consumed its liquids in one gulp.

"Thirsty, aren't we?" she chuckled, and Joshua elevated his head just in time to document that phantom, ephemeral smile upon her crimson lips. "And I thought vampires like you didn't need water to survive?"

_What did she just say?_ "Did you just call me a vampire?" he cursed this automated response of his. He had long discovered his tendency to repeat matters of disbelief utterly unnecessary, but since nobody had convinced him of this rather annoying practise during his youth, it had stuck with him like a blood-sucking leech.

"Yes." she replied, rather blandly at that. "That's exactly what I said. You're always in a dark office, never eating and never smiling, plus your skin's so pasty that it's practically bloodless." His hands flew to his skin at her statement, eliciting another string of her trademark, incredibly soft and effeminate laughter.

"You know, you should really get your ears check if you can only hear every other word. It could really damage your reputation at" she lifted a curious finger to her chin, "say, a summit at Nobel Michael."

"That's none of your concern." he said impassively, directly before a rising urge to slap himself across the forehead.

He was profusely relieved when she held her hands up in defense, her composure exhibiting none of offense, "Just trying to be considerate" she breathed, "I reckoned you'd rather have someone tell you the truth for a change. Royals like us can never catch a break. We're not told of our flaws, but when they're found by the press, they're blown completely out of proportion."

She was correct in that. "The press is ultimately controlled by the monarchy. We can shut them down anytime we like."

"But that's like confirming the things they say about you," she retorted, "Rumors don't hurt unless they're true, but what's true isn't simply a rumor anymore. It's an eternal paradox."

_They were getting off topic…_ "Were there any complications with the media? Any leads that disproved the veracity of our marriage?"

She shook her head. "Nope. We did a better job than we gave ourselves credit for. Right now, the entire world thinks we're so deliriously in love that we can't keep our hands off each other or something. I'd prove them wrong, but that would defy our entire purpose, wouldn't it?"

Truth be told, Joshua lost track of the remainder her statement at the 'can't keep our hands off each other' landmark. He cast his eyes down, hoping that his bangs would mask the heart prevalent upon his cheeks, with equal prowess that ignited every fiber in his body…

"Uh, Joshua?" she came closer, step by step closer to him until she was but inches from his armchair. "Are you alright?"

"Yes." his heart swarmed with content at her concerned undertone. There was an unspoken message in the way he raised his head, and for perhaps the first time in a century, produced a genuine smile, a smile that stemmed not only from his lips, but also his heart. It was childish, truly, how such an insignificant gesture from her made him so intensely alive…

_I'll always be alright, as long as you're with me. _He thought to himself with glee.

A cascade of sunshine suddenly encountered his back, filtering his dreary office with scintillations of igneous gold, at last unveiling the clear blue skies so typical of a Dres Vanian December. He could once again smell the fresh scent of petrichor, now conflated with pint of honey and just a tinge of wisterian peonies, almost like he gardened an efflorescent gathering in his chamber. Joshua could see the revealing greenery of his gardens, covered with the iridescent remnants of raindrops, ones that reflected fetching against the sunlight, their furtive glances paralleling that of a fairy-tale. Although Dres Van manor wasn't clad exclusively with roses, like that of Charles castle, its serene scenery and evanescent glamor nevertheless evoked a catharsis. Something along the lines of fawning obsequiously over just how perfect life truly is.

"Woah," she remarked, and reached outwards to slide back the velvet curtains of his windows. More light imbued with languor into his office, temporarily dilating Joshua's irises as he struggled to adjust his vision. His halcyon princess, on the other hand appeared utterly at ease with the Helios' lagniappe, "The rain finally stopped. Who knew you could actually see sunshine in this place…"

_Everyone except the Nerwan Princess. _A murmurous of a thought slowly interwove its way into Joshua's mind, one that slowly curved his lips as he stood up from his leathery armchair. Stephanie was still at awe with the luxuriant gold that bathed the grounds below them, so her impeccable surprise was more justifiable when he tapped her on the shoulder.

"Come" he inclined his head to the door,

"Walk with me."

Unlike springtime in Oriens and Altaria, Dres Van's twilight season was perhaps the most remarkable season to behold. In particular, the gardens of Dres Van manor were of an indescribable beauty – every row of carnations was tended by the most professional gardeners the royal funds can buy, and in their incontestable expertise, they had established a splendid oasis that definitely held ground against Liberty's 'marble labyrinth.' Boundless columns of flowers bloomed from their ebony beds, and with the enduring tears of heaven appeared as if works of art, painting streaks of lively artistry upon the stony exterior of the manor. Among the rows of petals and foliage, was what Joshua recalled to be the first King of Dres Van in his ivory majesty, his colorless eyes soliciting into the clouds, his posture challenging the gods in power. Ironic, really, considering that his statue was built into the center of a fountain, one that would freeze every winter up to his knees and comically entrapping him in ice.

He watched, enthralled by her every movement as she danced her eyes in awe over the grand garden, completely ignoring the fact that she was probably freezing to death underneath that thin gown of hers. The way she ebulliently skidded remained him of a sparrow, or perhaps a squirrel – he felt that the mundaneness of such animals couldn't contain her…beauty. In a sense, she was like a peahen, that is, if the species was largely fire-y in color, slimmer, and possibly more dynamic.

He blew into his palms, warming his skin with the small puffs of air crystallized by his breath. _How was it that women managed to remain immune to the cold, even when their surrounding temperatures hovered over freezing point was beyond anything he could fathom. _His mother, and now Stephanie, weren't they at all intimidated by the winter airs?

His wonderment was readily interrupted by her wondrous voice, "I never knew that Dres Van Manor had such a beautiful garden."

_Of course. _"Everything about Dres Van Manor is excellent. It shouldn't surprise you that our garden is extraordinary as well." He retorted with innocent victory.

She rolled her eyes, "Can't you just accept the compliment like a normal person? How do you expect anyone to like if you're always so high-and-mighty?"

Her request…well, Joshua couldn't quite comprehend its meaning. "I'm not a normal person, so it's unreasonable for me to comply with your so called 'normal' standards."

"They're not my standards," Stephanie said, crossing her arms over her plunging neckline, "They're traditional standards of kindness and compassion. You should know, considering you're in love with anything old and antique-y."

_Was that really the impression he gave off? _He gritted his teeth, managing somehow to prevent his brows to twitch in irritation. "I see no use in acting compassionate. It's tiresome to maintain, and it may never lead me where I truly want to go."

Her eyes widened in horror, and her lips popped dramatically open, as if wanting to viciously retort something before shutting them. Joshua blinked, perplexed as she shook her head in dread, "You know what, I'm not in the mood of discussing this with you. Besides," she glanced towards the vast forests beyond the tiled grounds of the flower garden alone, "It'll ruin the pretty scenery."

She waited for a couple seconds, further confusing Joshua when she stared, intently and concentratedly at him. He suddenly felt incredibly self-conscious, _did she know of the effect she had on him?_

"Joshua," she said. His head snapped up, just in time to see her point to the abundant forests, one famous for its various species of birds and rare tropical fungi. "Can we go in there?"

He blinked, astounded over the fact that the haughty little Nerwan Princess finally requested something from him. Somehow, it just made him love her infinitely more- "Of course. Follow me." He was half-tempted to place his hand behind her back, to personally, courteously guide her into the depths of the forest. Was it too soon? He could no longer discern. How pathetic was that? His head burnt with frustration, and finally, before she could question the nature of his relapse, he reached out his hand and lightly touched her waistline, the mouth-watering curvature of the small of her back.

"What happened to 'follow me'" she said weakly underneath her breath. Joshua smiled a little in amusement, but feigned ignorance to her whisper. _Together_, they disappeared in the crepuscular assemblage of trees – a satisfied prince and a slightly, just slightly less contemptuous Princess, in both heart and mannerism.

…

There was something different about the forest. It was…devoid of life, simply put; for none of the animals that so proudly inhabited its surreptitious corners came to play with them. In fact, it was as if they vanished into thin air…not that they were to ones to blame. The maddened rain that inured their habitat for the past few weeks was perhaps the human equivalent of a vile gale, or a tsunami, or another flood of biblical magnitudes.

He usually didn't mind their absence, but today, he wished them present to decrease the tension that permeated between the two. He needed the encouragement – but why did he find it awkward? She was his wife, straight and simple. No complications. She was his, in every constitutional sense, every traditional definition…

_Except one. _He had disbanded from her the night of their wedding, when they were supposed to…

He brutally darted his head amongst the trees, his eyes at once locating the object he was searching for. "There's a bench over there." He said.

_Wow. _When was the last time he had arrived in these woods? He couldn't exactly recall ever encompassing the abundant leisure to indulge in these precious gifts of nature, considering his demanding schedule and the utterly laughable scarcity of his time. There was a profusion of vine that wrapped around the solemn stone bench, rendering it although not as large and intricate as the one in his greenhouse, but of a fetching, impressionist quality. It resembled something straight out of Aurora's castle of roses and darkness, in other words, something of fantastical prose rather than something real and tangible.

She eyed the withering brown leaves for a second, a combination of curiosity and impassibility adorning her docile features. Then, as if deciding the furniture harmless, she escaped, just a little to eagerly from Joshua's touch and planted herself gingerly on the bench, her crimson gown in stark contrast against the shades of perishing green and enlivening brown.

He followed suit, precipitously in acute awareness of how close they were, side by side, alone in that tranquil forest. From that angle, the skies were clearer, unremittingly more visible than that day in the greenhouse…only two weeks of time had transpired since then, but to Prince Joshua, it felt like several decades had escaped through his fingers. He attributed this distortion of time to her, because she regulated his technique of measurement: he felt like he knew her, more than a man should get to know his bride in but an insignificant time span of fourteen days. He truly, genuinely felt like he knew her, several, immeasurable lifetimes over.

…

Silence. Not complete silence, not at all, but a mutual wordlessness that prevailed between the two royals, each abandoning the other in the private chambers of their own thoughts. Joshua yearned to say something. Anything. As long as it dissipated their tedious awkwardness.

_The ability to formulate small-talk, no matter how superfluous the situation, demarcated noble courtesy._

"So…" they began in unison. She shot a rather surprised glance to Prince Joshua, who nodded heavily for her to insipient their conversation.

"What do we do now?" she asked, "Since our wedding was successful in purpose. What do you have in mind for Nerwan now that we're no longer a threat?"

He suppressed with herculean effort to exhale in a viable sigh. In truth, he'd wanted them to discuss something else rather than the strenuous relationship between Dres Van and their eastern colony. "We wait and see. After the wedding mentality diminishes, I shall send ministers to repair Nerwan-"

She abruptly cut him off. "Wouldn't it be much better to send them now, especially when we can use this so called 'wedding mentality' to our favor? Think about it, Joshua," she bore her brilliant ochre eyes in his, "I mean, if you do it now, _you're _more likely to win their favor as the happy and newly-wed prince?"

"What do you mean?" Joshua wasn't particularly fond of the prospect of being the 'infatuated' prince deprived of logic, and who only cares of his bride.

"I mean," she said, somewhat exasperatedly, "The public is accustomed to equating happiness with justice. Those who are continuously solemn and depressed never win their favor, even if they're they have greater purpose. Considering your reputation among the six kingdoms, it's definitely better to repair Nerwan now than later."

…

"Besides," she added, "The sooner you do so, the sooner we can divorce, and I" she pointed to her chest, "Can stop occupying your rooms in _your _manor."

…

Seconds passed. Another surge of anonymous emotion overcame Joshua's heart as he replied "I don't mind that you're taking up space in my manor." His expression faltered, in a fashion that remained invisible to the both of them.

She shook her head, slowly to accentuate her point. "I do, Joshua. Nerwan is my home, and I'm the only royal left on the throne. The kingdom is already in chaos due to my brother's mishap, and it can only undertake so much royal absenteeism before our government completely crumples. Or worse," her mouth gaped in looming terror, "our ministers could completely overturn the monarchy and replace it with a totalitarian state. I can't have that. My people can't have that."

…

_That was…quite ambitious of her to say. _He smiled, somewhat proud of the resolution in her gravitating soprano; it was truly astonishing how inspirational a princess merely nineteen years of age could truly be. "And you plan to succeed the throne alone?"

"No." she replied bluntly, "I don't. Not entirely at first. I'll confess, I'll require your assistance at first, and few highly publicized exchanges between your House and mine. You guys might be tyrannical, but you do have a firm reputation among the Nerwans. So" she took a deep breath, her amber irises gathering light, "What I plan to do is to remain your wife for a while, and after my position as princess, or queen or whatever is secured, we divorce, and using the aftershock of the terrible tragedy, as I'm sure the press will exaggerate the drama, I'll re-establish Nerwan as a state."

…

He drew a pensive look towards her, earing in return her equally muddled gaze. "I don't see how that's going to be effective."

She clasped her hands together, her delicate brows furrowing together as if devotedly in prayer. "I was afraid that you'd ask that."

"Why?" her voice was weak, which was usually a bad omen.

"Because I plan to tell the public that I was the one who initiated the divorce." She closed her eyes, a satirical smile hovering over her lips. "So I appear headstrong enough to establish an image of a regal ascendant. My age is my biggest disadvantage, so in order to counter it, I must employ desperate measures-"

She hadn't the time to finalize her statement when Joshua violently grasped her shoulders, an ancient, primordial fury solidifying his eyes, and as his nails dug painfully into her arms did she yelp, her vulnerability evocating his courage, pumping his blood. Her words weren't agitating, but instead served as a key that unlocked the floodgate, one that he so meticulously repressed…

"I won't allow it." he commanded, his missive the paragon of authority as he stared her down. "You will not stray from my side, Stephanie. Not even if I give you permission to do so." _None of what she said mattered to him, nothing except the anticipation that she would no longer be with him._

She blinked, as if a frightened dear encountering an aggressive lion for the very first time. However, her distress gave as quickly as it came, and before Joshua knew it, she too gained a powerful grasp on his wrists, prying his hands away from her body. "Why? I thought we had a deal!"

"We did." He narrowed his eyes, his statement imperative, as imperative as the demands of his father, of every ruler of Dres Van accumulated in stateliness.

"But I'm calling it off."

"What?" she shrieked, her body trembling in indignation under his hold, "You can't do that, Lieben! Then what's the whole point of this?! Us getting married, you promising to restore Nerwan, there's no point-"

He interrupted her speech by grabbing her chin in his fingers, his fury even dominating his desire to relish in the softness, the sensual creaminess of her skin. Joshua's every word was elucidated with incontrovertible transparency, so much so that even the most imaginative could not misinterpret their semantics.

"I have something to say, _Princess Stephanie. _Your only choice is to listen."

Before she could respond, he cupped his other hand across her cheek, stabilizing her face in position, so his point would be carried across with the utmost clarity.

"You're not to leave Dres Van manor." He instructed sternly, disregarding her widening eyes and accelerating pulse.

"Not now. Not ever. If I find you even attempting to escape from my grounds, I'll show you no mercy."

She didn't speak, but with her luscious lips, she mouthed the eternal enquiry to his command.

_Why?_

"Because," he said, his voice gentler, more affectionate. "Because when I look into your eyes, I can see myself."

"Do you know what that implies?" he asked.

"That your eyes are on me too." Without warning, he pressed a dulcet, indescribably sweet kiss on her forehead, lingering just a second longer to tell just exactly how much he treasured her, how much he held her worthy. She didn't budge, but he could detect the slight quiver of her lithe frame when his lips encountered her skin…

It wasn't caused by the cool breeze that swirled around them. It was him. She was affected, affected by his touch, his caress, his breath…

"_I love you, Stephanie." He drew back, and looked, deep and tenderly into her enthralling orbs of molten fire. _

"_That's why you can't leave, because the story of you and me cannot meet its end. I won't allow it." He traced his thumb over the tip of her nose. She inhaled, light pink penumbras flushing her cheeks, the color as enchanting as the first spark of light prior to the break of dawn._

"_It has only just begun." He breathed, and in a moment of unrivalled madness pressed his lips to hers._

Beneath their feet, an impish squirrel emerged and alertly observed the two, blinking its large eyes swiftly in confusion. Then, as if dawning upon the nature of the situation, it scurried away, camouflaging its fur in the plethora of earthly vegetation encompassing the two.

However, not before it applauded its elfin claws, congratulating the hard-earned success of its sovereign.

**Chapter X**

_She tasted like…honey._

_ It was a refreshing contrast against her scent of peonies. She tasted how an infant would taste, when you'd first kiss them on the cheek, eliciting from them a string of gurgling laughter. Not that he had any first-hand experience in the matter, but from all the various accounts of 'the miracles of birth', he was closer in expertise than perhaps any of his staff. _

His lips were soft on hers, prompted by the desire to take things slowly, and not to frighten her with his ferocious, and by this point in the narrative, adamantly developed passions. Prince Joshua relished in the impeccable shape of her mouth, the faint, ethereal breath she'd puff out in awe, ones that propelled him to consume her more hungrily, more _unyieldingly. _He could feel her tremble beneath his hold, and with the wish to encourage the union of their lips, he embraced her and held her close, closer to his heart than anyone had ever been.

He could feel the faint brush of her lashes, fluttering as if a butterfly's wings against his cheekbones. Her eyes were open…but why? Was he not convincing enough in his speech? He growled into her lips, and with an abrupt tightening of his arms trailed his tongue sensually against her mouth. Perhaps it was her awe, or perhaps she wanted to preserve her chasteness, for her lips were firmly pressed into one hard line, not permitting Joshua to enter…

He drew back, ever so slightly before descending his teeth and grazing her bottom lip, provoking a small yelp to escape her. Grasping the opportunity, he divulged into her his tongue, washing sluggishly her every corner, combating her obstinate own in a moist, evocative salsa that heated hysterically his mind. His hands washed over the small of her back, and grasped her ruffling waistline, wishing nothing more than to absorb her lissome body into his own…the movements of his tongue increased in intensity; eventually, after a long and pregnant minute overpowered hers. He could sense it, the flow of power transitioning from his princess to himself, and to his heart's unparalleled content, he savored every single moment of it.

Her arms dropped to her side, flaccidly as if lifeless. Further exploiting her weakness, he brought up his fingers and traced desultorily over the curve of her collarbones, lingering ever so lightly over the center fissure. A fission of…_pleasure? _traversed down her spine, one that elevated her irrevocably closer to Joshua, facilitating his invasion…

_How cute._

Through his blurred conscience, the hot-headed Joshua Lieben, at that point attributed all her actions to reciprocating desire. Finally, after satisfied with his claim of her lips, he relinquished them, and at once inclined his head to the creamy skin at her neck…

He nipped tenderly, emanating a whimper, an enchanting, enthralling whimper from his beloved Stephanie. Intent on marking her as his, he was just about completely exhaust her with markings when-

_Slap_.

…

Their encompassing environs had at once became silent – a surreptitious, foreboding silence that reigned supreme over the former. Somewhere amidst their argument, the native inhabitants had emerged from their respective homes, scurrying between the trees hunting for afternoon snacks. Upon hearing the crisp sound of her assault, they all froze, unwaveringly in place and unanimously bewildered at the sudden progression. Several dozen pairs of elfin eyes concentrated on the two royals, the male one of which highly aware of their surroundings.

He blinked, not yet able to register what had happened, not until the aftershock of her slap emerged a searing pain across his cheek.

Joshua's hand immediately flew to his skin, "What the hell was that for?!" he bellowed.

Her chest huffed with unsurmountable fury as she shot up from her seat. Her eyes were of that fire, that dominant, obdurate flame that burned through all that may obstruct its path. "What the hell do you think that was for? You think-" she pointed an accusing finger at him, "That after some worthless love confession, that you can just go ahead and kiss me?!"

She threw her hands agitatedly in the air, "Joshua Lieben, just what kind of monster are you?!"

"M-monster?!" mirroring her actions, he towered over her, his superior height dispensing him advantage in intimidation. "How dare you call me a monster. You should be happy that I took time out of my life to court you, you ungrateful woman!"

"Court?" she was aghast, "In the name of _what_, pray tell, did that count as 'courting'? For All I knew, you could have been trying to take advantage of me, right here in these damned woods!"

_T-take advantage of her? _Ignoring with vigorous effort his blush, Joshua tried to make his narrowed brows appear as discontent as humanly possible. "I would never do such a thing! How dare you think that about me, do I look like a lowly vagabond that would ravish someone in a forest?!"

"You might not look like one, but what you just did proved otherwise." Her breath was still heavy, and Joshua noticed in conflating astonishment and glee that her lustrous lips were swollen. Somehow, through some ineffable mysticism, they channeled his desire, threatening to lure him closer, close enough that he could once again lose himself in her dulcet scent…

"Either way," he said, still unable to avert his attention to her eyes, "You're not leaving."

"Oh, after that?" she shut her lashes in dismay, "I definitely am. I refuse to remain in a castle with a beast of a prince who doesn't even remotely understand the concept of 'personal space'."

_How was that even relevant…_hopeless, Joshua slowly approached her once more; however, his endeavor was only awarded with another violent thrust at his chest.

"What the hell are you doing?" she screamed, "Get away from me, you jackass."

_Woah. _He ran his fingers frustratedly through his pale violet gossamers, "You're my wife. If you really didn't want me to touch you in the first place, then you should have thought otherwise before consenting to this marriage?!"

"C-consenting?!" her expression was one of pure bewilderment, "I consented?! Are you kidding me, Lieben?" she exhaled sharply, "You were the one who dragged me from my home against my will. You were the one who said I couldn't leave the country unless I married you, and YOU were the one who PROMISED that you'd held with rebuilding Nerwan after our divorce."

Her eyes became an incandescent orange, as if she was scrupulously supressing the urge for tears. "And now, just because you THINK that you're in love with me, you're going to go back on every deal we've ever made?" she spat, "You're the worst thing that's ever happened to Dres Van!"

"I didn't think!" he roared, his pride and patience no longer tolerant of her snappy outbursts.

"I KNOW, Stephanie. I know that I'm in love with you." His voice was desperate, as if those words, those loaded, impulsive words he had said were his exclusive key towards salvation.

"I know it, I know it with more certainty than I shall ever know anything."

…

Her eyes theatrically widened, her petite body immobile, petrified in place. She didn't move when a crimson leaf swirled to the winter symphonies, one that ephemerally dodged her nose by inches, nor did she blink when a squirrel glided across a branch, its furry bushel of a tail muffling the artistry of her hair. She just stood there, as if merging into an indispensable figurine of the forest – its divine guardian, hunter, Artemis.

Joshua couldn't describe the feelings that overcame his heart as she froze in her stance; however, through his fused emotions, the one that prevailed over all others was inevitably fear. _Had he came on too strong in proclaiming his love? Had he frightened her with his violent eruptions? _His heart thundered, with the potency of a thousand fire chariots as he stood idle, liquid amethyst keenly imploring crystallized ochre with keen judiciousness.

"You're…" her voice was barely a whisper, "You're…in love with me?"

He smiled, a small, sad smile, as if he had just endured a lifetime of unsurpassable terrors, and just returned to his homeland to greet the graves of his loved ones. He looked as of Odysseus, just as he was about to enveloped Penelope in his arms, but was rejected by her merciless trial. "Yes, I love you, Stephanie, so don't."

He vanquished the distance between them with elongated, elegant strides. "Don't leave. I can fight with everything I have, everything I own for you, for Nerwan. I can grant you your every wish, as long as you're by my side."

"I…" she gaped, "But Joshua, I'm the sister of Leonardo of Nerwan, your arch nemesis. How can you possibly fall in love with me, when my brother almost brought your kingdom down in ruins-"

"I don't care." The winds around them swirled at his proclamation, accompanying Joshua's resolution by the mystical guidance of the celeste. A revitalizing breeze traversed through the two, gliding languorously her front-bangs to the side, her cascade of curls into a bewitching hurricane of the most vibrant red…by nature's substance, Joshua's every word echoed ceaselessly through the haunting woods, made hollow, and indefinitely more majestic as he took her hand in his.

"You're my wife," he said, "I don't care who you are. I don't care, if you're Leonardo's sister, I wouldn't even care if _you_ were the one who threatened to eliminate my kingdom. Even if you were the daughter of the devil himself," he placed her trembling hand over his prominently pounding heart, holding it firmly in place, "If you dared leave me, I'd still chase you down to the very ends of the inferno."

"So please," he begged, boring his sincere amethyst orbs into hers, "Reconsider."

Upon witnessing her deliberated response, he thwartingly grimaced. Joshua's fingers tightened, enclosing her palm deeper into his protruding muscles, closer to his rapidly pumping organ, to the very center of his material existence…

"Feel that? That's my heart," he enquires, tracing his thumb gently over her forefinger, "Now, by the power invested in me – by me -, I place it in your hands, Stephanie. You can either break it, and toss its remains into these woods, without hope of its recovery. Or," he breathes, leaning closer to accentuate his point, but not so close that it'd make her uncomfortable.

_"Or, you can grace it with happiness that it's never before imagined."_

…

_Her eyes softened, almost as if she was glad to hear those words. It was almost like…almost like she felt the same way. _Her eyes were half shut, in dreamy lassitude, mesmerized by the sweet words he had just uttered. Seizing the opportunity, he tended in, inch by inch closer, intertwining their breaths, his lips to hers…

_Just when the tip of their noses touched, she chanted, _

_ "You're lying." _

He couldn't have drawn back, he didn't have the time to draw back as she brusquely shoved against his chest, sending him staggering backwards.

"You're lying" she said, this time louder, more powerful. "Don't you play me like that, Joshua Lieben. I know that you're lying."

…

His heart heavy, his tenor barely containing the majesty that it used to be. "I swear in the name of Holy Nobel-"

"Don't!" she glared at him with indescribable menace, "Don't you dare mar the name of the Holy Grounds. I don't know what you want, you two-sided jackass, but I will have you know that I will never yield to you."

"But still," she remarked, shaking her amber curls with true, unadulterated horror, "This is a new low, even for you."

_New low? But he had meant every single word he had said, how is it that she still managed to misinterpret his intentions… _"Stephanie," he implored, "I meant every single word I say, I am truly, unconditionally in love with you."

"Don't mock me." Her knuckles white with strength, she stole a handful of leaves and thrust them in his direction, discontent apparent in her contorted features when they failed to harm him. "Unconditionally? Drop the act, Lieben. You know as well as I do that you wouldn't have wasted a second with me if I wasn't the Princess of Nerwan. What is it now, what do you want from me that you're covering under the pretense of love? Huh? What is it that's so horrid that you cannot come out and tell me yourself?." She bent down, and was just about to retrieve another bundle of perspiring shrubberies, but somehow in the next instant decided against it.

"People like you," she said, "Should not even be able to use the word 'love'."

There was warmth, insensible, incorporeal warmth that occupied his eyes, that blurred his vision, as if he was looking through a timeless looking-glass. "And why is that?"

She turned her head away, no longer bearing the resilience to gaze at the repugnant monster before her. "Because you defy its sanctity. You ruin it, just like you've ruined everything in my kingdom, and just like you've ruined everything in my life worth preserving. You know what," she began to walk, farther and farther away from the castle, away from a flabbergasted Prince Joshua. "You're not even worth the calories I spent yelling at you."

Contrite. That wasn't an avid description for the Dres Vaninan Prince's mental state at that moment. In fact, nothing was – for the human language is dreadfully impoverished in defining true dismay. We appreciate many gifts, one of which is to ascertain words that are visually appealing, and simultaneously acoustically euphonious in which they elicit from us, deeply emotional responses. We're talented in discovering those that corroborate with the spiritually positive, those that are beautiful and, ultimately enjoyable. It's a pity, really, to humanity that we dote upon only the affirmative, and in an attempt to endure against shadows, neglect the deleterious. For, if I could find such words of terror, I would be able to lucidly portray just exactly how desperate Prince Joshua felt…

"What," he whispered, his back slumping forward in a pitiful arc, "What can I do to prove my heart. Tell me, and I'll do it."

She stopped, the opulent maroon trail of her gown alike a dreadful grave of sunsets, or a line of fresh, ruthless blood that stemmed from her sparkling heels. Joshua was confident that she heard him, but was rendered less certain when she didn't turn back, didn't turn back around to face his sorrow with her flame.

"What can you do…" she chuckled, palming a thin leaf in her hand and caressed it adoringly, as if tending to the smooth skin of a newborn…her laugh was so endearing, like she was moved, _elated_ by him. Hope. He felt it, the fading hope, the dying faith that once again rekindled his spirit, once again scorched through his veins like a blooming wildfire.

_She snapped it from its root and scrunched it sadistically, fragmenting its bonelessness in her stunning white palms._

"You can burn in hell." She spat.

She didn't come home.

Home. Joshua Lieben had never considered anywhere his home. Ever since he was but a child, his residence was defined by wherever held the most volumes of historical texts, or wherever his trusted companion, Jan went. He knew, that the word meant directly and literally 'where one permanently lives', and perhaps that was an accurate delineation of its meaning. However, just like the causal necessity of fatalism that doctrines the universe, when one point of ambiguity vanquishes, another arises. If home is synonymous to living, then what is 'living', exactly? Was it the harmonious, sacred cooperation under one unified roof, or was it merely two strangers, with crossed destinies sharing a mutually required commodity?

In a sense, the latter is infinitely less plausible than the former. It's nearly impossible for two people, even if they were originally merely bypassers to remain with one another and not between them, emerge some notion of a relationship. Tastelessness, as a manifestation of reality cannot ever persist – because of humanity, because the extents of human emotion rule that we're not devoid of sentiment. Applying the same logic, one cannot forever retain their ignorance to the existence of the other, for even on the scarcest occasions, they must cross paths. From their mild distance may originate affection, in the very plebeian connotation of the noun, or contempt, though a diminutive pint at first. Through the nourishment of time, emotions augment down their designated trails, leading to either separation, or its alternative. It's either one or the other – there's no golden mean, not anywhere in between.

However, in the specific case of Prince Joshua Lieben, he might just be able to combine the two in a potpourri of grandeur. Dres Van manor, he now knew, was his home. His family was there: although his parents seldom visited from the southern estates outside the capital, they would still grace the manor with their presences every holiday; his staff were there, and even if they were unsettled by the fearsome prince, they nevertheless remained, through rain and snow, sunshine and storms by his side. Jan, his friend, confidant and steward was there, always. He valued them, every one of them, for they were the ones who dismantled his shell, even before he enclosed it around his heart, perhaps even before he knew of the pains of this world.

But. None of that mattered to the amethyst-haired prince as he sat, idly in her bedroom, hovering over few scattered bottles of alcohol, already devoid of content. These beverages, unlike the scrumptious wine of Charles originated from the kingdom of Oriens, and were fermented from various grains such as rice and barley. They possessed not the sweet, sensual taste of grape, but were of a bland, slightly aggravating sensation upon the tongue. For those that held low tolerance, they burned their throats; however, for those that encompass the uncanny ability to consume endless volumes of liquor without wavering, those such as Prince Joshua himself, it was more of a challenge against his extremes.

_Sake, _was it?

Jan had gone and come, his last arrival exhausted away in soundless appraisal to convince the tenacious prince of his boundaries. He was that time, just like every other expedition led into her chambers, dismissed by an agilely conscious Joshua by the swift wave of his hand. The Dres Vaninan High Steward had sighed in frustration, his expression masked indecipherable as he retreated into the shadowy hallways. After his departure, Joshua had in his sorrow drowned himself in more of the bland liquid, and slowly did he feel his mind dissipate, reverting back to an entity driven by instinct and desire. His reason, chivalry no longer hindered him, and neither did his vision – everything that met his unfocused gaze appeared double-fold, as if redundant mirages of themselves, or a corpse and its phantom. Everything, including the blindingly radiant spotlights of her room was spellbound by something blurring, something magical, alike a fairy-land, or maybe, if Joshua continued to absurd himself with alcohol, heaven itself.

He raised his bottle, and pondered over the transparency of its crystalline glass, its colorless contents and alas, the meaningless cursives that embellished the label. He had succeeded, he thought exultantly. The proud, untameable Joshua Lieben, renown amongst the kingdoms for his unconquerable appetite for liquor was finally, irretrievably drunk. He could photograph the moment, and perhaps humor Prince Roberto with a picture, one that he would undoubtedly prize until the day he rotted down to bone. Though, despite everything, Joshua was still sane enough to realize that if he had done so, his companionship with the Altarian Prince would enhance exponentially overnight, which was, even in his drunkenness something undesirable.

He wanted to make a toast…but to what? Didn't that defy the entire purpose of consuming the intoxicating beverage, that there was nothing worth celebrating in his life? Joshua laughed, a pathetic, elongated string of laughter that reminded him mildly of a choking bear, or the disordered cry of a lion in its death. Thankfully, nobody was around to witness the Prince's fall from grace, so that he could abuse his dignity to his heart's content. Nobody, absolutely nobody, with the exception of…

"Joshua!" something faint and warm tugged on his fingers, causing him to sluggishly open his eyes. He could somewhat see, but his lack of recognition originated from the strained gears of his mind rather than optic mechanisms themselves.

"What are you doing here? And why," his bottle was suspended in air, "Are you drinking yourself to death?" the melodic qualities of the sound…it was her, he acknowledged with glee. Stephanie. She had returned, returned to his castle, _their castle; their home. _

"I...w-was waiting for you." He stuttered, no longer coherent in his purpose.

"Waiting for me?" she enquired, her voice not as hard and hostile as they were that afternoon. However, the difference could be largely attributed to Joshua's filtering hearing rather than a change of heart, verifiable on her part. "Why would you do that?"

He grinned to nobody in particular. "Didn't you leave? It's a husband's duty to await the return of his wife, especially when she lacks an escort…"

She sighed. "Since when were you a gentleman…you know what, nevermind. You need to go to your room, and sleep all these-, Oh my goodness!" she yelped as she picked up an empty bottle, "Oriens _sake_? In the name of Holy Nobel Michael, Joshua Lieben, are you trying to commit suicide?"

"No." Well, it was the truth – alcohol served more painkilling purposes than anything else.

"Then what were you trying to do?" she demanded with fervour, "Because any other person would have passed out with just one of these bottles. And yet here you are, immortal as ever…Hey!" Joshua's head had drooped over, to which the Nerwanese Princess quickly held him in place.

She leaned him gently against the leathery depths of her pale-toned couch. "I'll go get Jan-"

"No." he dragged her into his chest, promptly resting his chin in her floral-scented locks of fire. "Don't…go. Don't leave me."

This time, she didn't struggle. She could probably easily overpower him, that is, if she actually attempted to do so. Instead, she softly detangled his limp arms, careful not to disturb his vulnerability at this point in time.

"Don't worry, I'm right here." She said.

He smiled at the pacifying lullaby of her voice. Before he could contain his curiosity, he asked, "Why did you come back?"

She blinked, blatantly surprised by his question. "What do you mean? I never left…"

"You did," he shook his head, "This afternoon. You disappeared into the forest. I went searching for you, but c-couldn't find you anywhere." How long ago was that? By the time Joshua had faint-heartedly returned to the manor, the sun had already made its grandiose descent into the offing grey mountains.

"You went searching for me?" she sounded incredulous, then, in the next moment, apologetic. "That's…quite gallant of you. Thank you." He nodded, contentedly closing his eyes, as if an eager puppy comforted by it doting master – that is, if puppies would ever exuberantly reek of alcohol.

"But to answer your question, I came back because I needed to say," she inhaled heavily as she seated herself beside him, "That I'm sorry, Joshua. I shouldn't have yelled at you, not before hearing you out."

He nodded again, and she laughed. "Though, it seems like anything said right now will just pass through your brain without leaving a mark, so I'll reserve my _epic_ speech for a time when you're sober, and hopefully less disgusting."

_Disgusting? _That, somewhat awoken him, just a little from his befuddled state. "I can hear you just fine. Now, what was it that you wanted to say?"

She rolled her eyes, "I thought you could hear me just fine."

"I only heard the second part of your statement." He corrected.

There was a pause that transpired between the two, one that ranged for approximately ten seconds before she spoke. "I said that I was sorry. I shouldn't have so heartlessly yelled at you, especially after you confessed your feelings for me. I really, really shouldn't have done that, especially if…" her voice trailed off,

He inclined his head, "If what?"

She cast her lashes down, "I didn't think you were capable of love, Joshua, that's why I dismissed your confession so quickly." A petite smile now ornamenting her rosy lips, she continued, "The first time that we had a conversation, a real conversation, that is, was in your greenhouse. I remember you saying that despite all odds, despite everything that you had done – sacrificing your happiness for the welfare of your people, overthrowing Nerwan, that it still hurt when imagining the potentiality of real happiness. So I realized, that maybe there's something human about you after all."

"And what's that,"

He felt her body shuffling closer to him, "Those that experience pain, have heart." She pointed a manicured nail to his chest, bestowing a slightly ticklish sensation above his pumping organ, "Consequently, those that have heart are capable of guilt; and anyone who feels guilt, is ultimately worth forgiving."

_Wow. _

"So I take it that I'm forgiven?" he asked, faiths once again interlacing his solicit.

"Not entirely," Joshua felt slightly forlorn when she retracted her finger, "It depends."

"On what?" _Talking to her was like riding a high-risk emotional roller-coaster. _

There came another pause. "Were you telling the truth?" she said, her voice weak, "You know, when you said that you loved me. Tell me that this isn't another ploy to abate me from wanting to restore my kingdom-"

"I wasn't lying." He opened his eyes, struggling with all his might to focus his sight on her, hoping that he'd appear convincing in his resolve. "I was, and am telling the truth when I say that I love you."

It seemed like that their entire conversation consisted of meaningful silences. Deciding he could take her deliberation no longer, he gazed away, suddenly immensely interested in the foundational colors of her bedpost. He recalled selecting one that reminded him of his mother's headdress, one that was decorated exclusively with rich roses of various shapes and sizes. It held a certain charm to him when he was but a boy, but now, when he was barely cognisant as an adult, it was repetitive and unnecessary, just like everything else.

"…yeah, I'm sorry for that too." she said.

He shut his eyes in consternation. If an observant spectator was to listen with distilled concentration, then they would perhaps detect the soft, fragmenting noise of Prince Joshua's heart. Suddenly did he feel that his world was turned up-side down, as if every memory, every feeling that he had painfully supressed resurfaced, in an eternal spiral that voided his being, his every cell into boundless, immutable grief.

"I'm sorry." She whispered again, intent on curing the pains of his heart. "But I don't wish to lie about my own feelings, for if I did, it would just prolong your misery, especially if I was to leave within a couple months. But if there's anything I can do, perhaps to make you feel better, then whatever it is, I'll try it."

Her voice had been tinged with hopefulness, but her back stiffened when Joshua impassively presented her a new bottle. "Then drink with me. That'll make me feel better."

That was a lie. There was nothing in this world, not at that moment that could possible relieve Joshua of his searing pain; however, he also despised the guilt that corroded her lively disposition. If he couldn't be happy, then how can it be justified that he corrupted hers? Somehow, he had managed to equate alcohol with anesthetics, which is, in most cases, a rather dangerous generalization.

"I can't" she raised her hands in defeat, "I'm an extremely light drinker, and this stuff is at least 45%..."

"Do it," he commanded again, "This is your repentance."

"I really can't." she laughed, one exasperated and breathless, "If I did, I'd collapse within the minute. I can do something else though," she reached towards a nearby sewing kit, "I can make you something, like knit you a sweater, or perhaps add some color to those neck ornaments you adore so much."

"No." he shook his head in the fashion of a stubborn child, raising the glass container higher in the air. "Don't defy me. Drink, or you'll never earn my forgiveness."

…she sighed, her breath loaded with helplessness as she reluctantly took the bottle from Joshua's hand, "Fine."

He grinned in innocent triumph as she popped open the flask, wrinkling her nose as she gulped down its contents in one dramatic motion. As soon as the drink encountered her throat, her ochre eyes widened, and immediately bolted forward, quickly concealing her mouth with her hands.

"This tastes disgusting!" he laughed, out loud at her remark.

"You honestly can't expect it to taste as good as wine. The Oriens folk are famous for their peculiar taste in alcohol, and now you have the first-hand experience to explain why."

"Still," she stole a distasteful glance at her object in hand, "It's gross. How did you manage to drink all these and still stay sane?"

He shrugged in nonchalance. "Practice…No."

He interrupted just as she ventured to place the cap back on her bottle, "You're not finished."

"What?" she was dumbfounded, "You can't possibly expect me to drink all of this! Not everyone's immune to alcohol like you, Liebe-."

"Joshua." he said, furrowing his brows, "Use my name. You at least owe me that much."

She gritted her teeth, but deliberately nodded. "Fine. Joshua. But I'm still not drinking everything here-"

"Yes," he straightened his back to face her, "That was our promise. As a princess, it's very deplorable to go back against your word."

"Really?" she chuckled, "You're going to play the promise card with me? I recall a certain prince in this very room who _promised_ he'd set me free, but somehow managed to fall in love with me so that…"

She didn't continue, and a moderately remorseful look suddenly flashed over her creamily docile features. Before Joshua could enquire what was wrong, she had already raised her bottle to her lips, and drank enthusiastically, her zeal even astonishing the Dres Vaninan prince himself. He soon grew worried, despite the fact that she consumed it like an expert, he still couldn't dissolve the expanding unease that inflated his superego once more.

"Stephanie," he said, "That's enough."

"No." she wiped her mouth with the velvet sleeve of her gown, in a rather un-lady-like manner. "That's not even close to enough."

Once again pushing her lips against the glass, she muffled between mouthfuls, "In fact, Joshua, where's the rest of your stash?"

**Chapter XI**

…

"_No," he had said. "Stop. Someone who's a light drinker cannot endure something so strong, especially if it's your first time having anything other than wine."_

_ To his utter dismay, she didn't listen. Instead, she danced heartily away from him, her intoxication already apparent in the erratic sway of her footsteps and the rosy penumbras that flushed her cheeks. The color paralleled the crimson shade of her lustrous lips, ones rendered much more seductive underneath her brilliantly arranged spotlight._

_ "You said you wanted me to drink, didn't you?" she challenged through half-open, dream-like eyes, "Here you go. I'm granting your wish. How's this for repentance for a change?"_

_ "Don't be stupid." he attempted to rush towards her; however, in his trepidation over her balance, he had completely forsook the fact that he too, was heavily swayed by alcohol. Swallowing the bitter aftertaste that permeated his mouth, Joshua sustained his weight by leaning upon her closet, his head clearing, slowly by the senselessly cool sensation of smoothly polished wood through the fabric of his sweater. "You've already been forgiven."_

_ "Really?" she squealed, and gave him a theatrical thumbs-up in the air. "How big of you, Joshua, to forgive me for rejecting your love in only one drinking session." He groaned, fatigue overpowering his wish to grab the vessel from her mischievous hands. If he had known that she was such a reckless drunktard, then perhaps he shouldn't have taunted her into such an endeavor in the first place. _

_ "I'm otherwise known as a saint. I'm surprised that you're only discovering this now." She laughed, a manic, almost perversely maddening laugh that trembled his ears, wobbled his knees and ridding him a viable foundation to stand upon. He slithered to the ground, running his fingers roughly through his hair, desperately wishing for the force he employed to awaken him from his half-hearted relapse. _

_ "Well, I suppose it's never too late to learn." She sang. Suddenly without warning, her legs gave out beneath her, her gown an entrancing maroon locus, spreading with languorous grace as she made her descent. Joshua almost expected her to cry out, but when she laughed further, he couldn't help but assemble a small smile himself._

_ "You're much more agreeable when you're not trying to assault me." He said, glancing adoringly in her direction. _

_ She spread out her arms upon her lush carpets, as if embracing an amorphous divinity, one that would forever supply Prince Joshua's boundless envy. "What you just said made absolutely no sense."_

_ He blinked, and then in a mocking grin realized his own mishap. "Yeah, I guess I can't be trusted around alcoholic beverages either."_

_ "Are you implying that I, on the other hand am irresponsible?" She spun her head around, allowing her orange cascade to spin an elegant hurricane around her petite, heart-shaped face. "I will have you know that even when I'm half-conscious, I'm still more well-liked than you'll ever be."_

_ "Hm." He grimaced upon the realization that his legs hung like the stringed limbs of a puppet, while he lacked the genius of a puppeteer. So, mustering all the strength in his body, he hauled himself up via her dressing table and sauntered over to her, eyes full of wary. _

_ "What you need," he grabbed onto her bedpost, just in time to prevent another fall, "Is to go to bed."_

_ He held his hand tentatively out to her, hoping that she, in her drunkenness wouldn't take offense to his offer, "Get up."_

_ She slapped his hand away, and laughed at his horror-struck expression. _

"_Make me."_

_ He growled, a dark light overcoming his amethyst irises. There was no way that he was going to have this fight with her, especially not there, and in __**that position. **_"Stop acting like a child."

When she didn't respond, he reached forward and roughly grasped her wrist. With his substantially reduced strength, he dug his soles into the carpet for balance, frowning deeply as she wouldn't budge from her languid pose. _What the hell was she doing?_

"Are you kidding me?" she carolled, her tone consisting of a mocking innuendo, "With that kind of strength, I can probably take you down with nary any effort."

_What? _"That's highly improbable, especially if you take into account your current state."

Unbeknown to Joshua, his challenge just further soared her heart, prompting her dazzling eyes to widen in defiance. There was a momentary transition of power between the two – her body became limb, airy and weightless, which allowed Joshua to partially elevate her from the ground; however, his hopes were instantly crushed when she lowered her back, mercilessly dragging him to the ground alongside her fluttering gown. She didn't immediately recognize the sheer awkwardness of their situation when the prince's face landed precisely in between her breasts, and, if I shall be fairly honest, she was far too 'loopy' to genuinely care.

"Ha!" she said, raising her arms in a victory signal, "Told you I could easily overpower you."

…

…

…

She felt incredibly soft, so enchantingly soft, as if she was composed of the clouds of heaven, mixed with the corporeal petals of a million flowers. Joshua's mind burned, burned with bounty desire for her, his princess, so prettily pinned down beneath his body, smiling contentedly at him with mystical eyes. His mind flew to the kiss they shared earlier that day, and it was as if he could still taste the remnants of honey upon his lips, a taste that he knew, if persisted would torrent his heart like an addictive drug. He should definitely hold his rationale in place. Even if she was indeed, by legal means, his wife, her heart still…didn't quite belong to him. Would it be sinful if he was to…

_No, it wouldn't be._

Encouraged by his lust, he propelled himself by his elbows so that he could peer into his face, his long bangs brushing ethereally against the tip of her nose. She practically glowed, he thought with wonder, and to top it off, the fashion in which she would breathe and shuffle his hair was absolutely adorable. His heart swarmed with adoring passion, at once dismantling his princely pride and waning him into just a normal man, yearning for the caress of his beloved.

"Stephanie," he whispered her name slowly, so that his message would sink in before… "That was the wrong move to make."

"What?" she asked, blinking unfocusedly, "What do you mean by 'the wrong move to make'?"

He leaned in closer, and with his finger brushed away a lock of hair obscuring her vision, "What you just did back there was incredibly suggestive."

"Suggestive?" she said once more, her message so oblivious that Joshua couldn't help but wonder whether or not she was truly ignorant, or if she was more talented in the department of seduction than he anticipated. "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."

His eyes rolled back in dismay, "It's something rather unbecoming to explain. Showing you would be infinitely more efficient."

She grinned, somewhat of a satirical smile. "At lost for words, aren't we?"

"No." he shook his head, and felt his passions slowly unfold within his heart, "I'm merely being considerate."

She looked up at him, exasperated confusion clouding her docile features. "Well then, show me. I hate being left out of things…"

_What? _That was _practically an invitation to bed._

Not requiring further persuasions, the prince cupped his palm over her cheek, absorbing with care the sensual warmth she emanated at that very moment. The air behind them was on the verge of imploding, not of the fluorescent heat of her many lanterns, but due to the accelerando of sexual tension that had accumulated over the past seconds. He breathed, and she half-shut her lids, rendering her all the more enthralling in her dynamo.

"Don't regret saying that, Stephanie." He breathed, trailing down her cheekbone with the skin of his thumb. A tiny crease appeared in between her eyebrows, her lips desultorily opening as he gently touched the corner of her mouth. Even through the distance between them, he could hear the rapid response of her heart, thundering due to his provocations…

He leaned in gently to kiss her, gently nipping at her bottom lip, more careful this time round not to frighten her. To his surprise, she didn't reject him, but in an exhilarating movement kissed him back, oddly experienced in her attempt as well. Invigorated by her beauty, he edged his body closer, and fully relaxed his body on hers as his lips grew in hunger, utterly disregarding his former convictions of graciousness. He could feel her breasts against his chest, spilling in their plumpness…

Before he even knew what was going on, her tongue had already encountered his, and had invited him in a ferocious combat session that reminded him strangely of his first fencing sessions as a child. The adrenaline, the perspiration and rough, untamed feeling of insurmountable control, they were all the same. He washed his tongue inside her, and flicked it against the top walls of her mouth, causing her to tremble, to quiver as her arms enveloped his neck, locking him closer in their vigorous union.

_She…_he couldn't believe it, neither could he outrageously accept that she was reciprocating his love. A part of him wanted to relinquish her, to ask her if this is what she truly wanted; however, the more penurious, more desperate part of him urged him to continue the task at hand, to show her a monstrous night that she would never forget…

The latter definitely had more appeal.

…

He didn't know how long they had kissed, but when he finally released her, her cheeks were incredibly flushed, the red pools of blood underneath her skin blooming furiously like spring roses. Her lips, slightly swollen were sluggishly open, the remains of their passions still glistening upon their tantalizing petals. Obvious in her stimulation, her chest now pressed in circulating rhythms against him, her legs curling up, meeting his abdomen and just inches from his…her arms were still around him, and he experimented the depths of her resolve by pulling back, only to have her respond by tightening her hold. Aroused by his adventurous wife, Joshua separated her legs with his knee, settling himself between the velvet folds of her plush maroon gown.

He touched their foreheads, allowing their heated breaths to mingle for a second before saying, his voice feverishly husky.

"If that's the case," he chuckled, amused at her slightly delighted smile, "Then I'll show you no mercy tonight."

She didn't respond in words, but he knew that she received his message when she initiated another kiss, crossing her arms firmly across his broad back. _Wow, _he thought as he returned her lips. He couldn't believe it, that this gorgeous goddess would yield to his love, and recapitulate it with such, such ferocity.

More boldly this time, he smoothened his palms against her waist, scrunching the material of her gown as he caressed her every curve, intent on telling her just how much he wanted her. His fingers were tender, but hard as he touched, dissembling her in his travels. Her reaction was captured by his deprived mouth, her every moan and squeal drowned by his waltzing tongue, but he could nevertheless feel her arch himself closer to his touch. _She was so soft, so evocative as she moved beneath him, even when she was still fully clothed._

Prince Joshua suddenly drew back, no longer persistent in beleaguering her with kisses. Instead, he declined his mouth to the bottom arc of her jaw, and bit a series of small bites down her flesh. She moaned in ecstasy, her voice dark and throaty, causing Joshua to raise his palms slowly to her breast and cupped…

He halted his performance in horror when she laughed, her body shaking to her bell-like voice.

"What?" he asked, half-annoyed. The other half was pure humiliation, but he definitely wasn't going to show her that.

She giggled, like a befuddled schoolgirl upon receiving mixed signals from her long-held crush. "That really tickles."

He blinked, puzzled, his hand still hovering over her copious mound. "It didn't hurt at all?"

"Nope," she said, her smile insultingly inattentive. "It didn't hurt at all."

_Wow, she appears less sensitive than he gave her credit for. _His panic replaced with an animalistic lust, her suddenly curled his fingers, and relished in the awed gasp that escaped her, accompanied by the faint red tinges that resurfaced on her creamy complexion.

"Joshu-mmph."

It no longer mattered what she wanted to say as he brusquely cut her off, once again devouring her in a frenzied passion that boiled his blood. However, there was a patent change in the way Joshua handled her body, for if she desired it rough, then he really had no reason to hold back any longer. He fondled her breast, palming her roguishly through her gown, rotating them in continuous circles until her breath became ragged, the movements of her tongue dangerously inconsistent.

She held him close, so close that he could hear her maddening pulse. _Oh lord, _he thought to himself, _he had absolutely no idea, after all this time that she was so simply magnificent. _But alas, Joshua couldn't be satisfied by the mere joining of their lips. No. He wanted more; he _needed more, _and he would start by removing those cumbersome skirts of hers.

Without leaving her mouth, he positioned her back upwards with one hand, and with the other surreptitiously undid the zipper pressed against her incredulously flawless skin. His knuckles traced a faint trail down her back to the curvature of her behind; he couldn't help but touch her as he went, touch every exposed surface of her, savoring the feeling of her underneath his fingertips. She was surely divine…

He was weighted down by her lissome body as she clung to him, uplifting herself to facilitate the removal of her clothing. Even through his blurred senses, Joshua could feel iridescent beads covering her forehead, her eyelids, the fire cascades of her hair, transformed slightly auburn underneath her plethora of lights. A part of him wondered briefly if he should alert Jan to turn off the heat in that room…but wait, _wasn't it perfect?_

Joshua broke off the kiss, and allowed her a moment of refuge, to catch her unkempt breath while he skilfully glided the fabrics of her gown down her shoulders. His molten amethyst eyes drank in every last corner of her bare body – the mouth-watering shadows of her collarbones, the impeccable shape of her lace-clad breasts, her shapely legs, ones that appeared even prettier in such proximity. He couldn't help but stroke her waist, the inner sides of her thighs, her calves…she shut her lashes in ecstasy, her delicate brows creasing, showing him exactly how she felt underneath his skin.

"Joshua…" she chanted, her mesmerising voice obliterating his reason. Before she even registered what had transpired, his hands had already flown to the clasp of her brassier, and in one quick snap pulled it apart, allowing the airy breeze to taunt her hardened nipples. Another gasp made her effeminate escapade as he pulled the constraining fabric off, lowering his caliginous eyes to her bared chest…

"Ah…W-what are you doing?!" _how cute of her to ask._ His mouth upcurved as he licked her mound, grazing his teeth slowly over her erected peaks. With their closeness, he could feel with absolute lucidity her every shiver, every echoing moan with unsurpassed clarity. His touches demanded her attention, gravitated her mind like a moth to a flame, even if the former knew with certainty that her wanting would induce her doom, she didn't care, and neither did he. In fact, redemption was the farthest thing on Joshua's mind as his lips hugged her breast, his tongue tweaking her, back and forth, back and forth…_back and forth…_

"Oh god, J-joshua!" she screamed, entangling her fingers within his hair. Her voice was weak, spiritless, but so profoundly enthralling that Joshua gulped, and leaving one last kiss on her skin resumed his attention to her lips, impatiently shutting her from any intentional proclamation. For, he wanted her most primitive songs, ones depleted of rationale and only symphonised of pleasure. Prince Joshua firmly held her head in place, cushioning her head against the carpets while his other hand traversed lewdly to the garden between her thighs, his fingers moving mischievously under the mid-night black lace of her panties. _God, even her choice in undergarments suited his tastes perfectly…_

He hooked the transparent material through his forefinger, and without disrupting their kiss brashly removed it from her legs. He didn't realize, but somewhere amidst his loving caresses, she had reached out and detached his scarf from his neck, and was now working with fruitless frustration on the hem of his sweater. Chuckling to her knotted expression, he drew back and shook it off himself; then, as if deciding it not enough, he also reached down and removed his trousers, leaving himself unclothed, save for the tedious boxers that concealed his protruding masculinity.

He hadn't realized until then, but his heart must have accelerated into overdrive the moment he witnessed her bare skin in such large proportions. Although her body resembled the celestial, her voice more reminded him of Harpies, those that in their fantastic song lured ill-minded men to their impending doom. He wasn't particularly fond of comparing himself to those who would plunge into ceaseless shipwreck at the demand of a pretty girl; however, though what he had just experienced, the heart-wrenching of unclothing her alone proved his convictions otherwise.

She glanced at him through half-open eyes, mouthing for him to continue…his reaction was more instinctive than anything else, and when he kissed down her neck, the plane of her stomach and closer to her core, her moans became more erratic in frequency, more audible in amplitude…her fingers tightened against the carpets, knuckles whitening to contain the violent trembles of her body,

In sync with the allegro of her body, Joshua's lips moved, inch by inch closer to her moistened femininity. Despite how it depressed his painfully hardened member, he didn't immediately venture to plunge himself into her, for he was certain that she was a virgin, just like all other young princesses that abided by their stringent royal concords. So instead, to test his waters, he grazed his nose slowly against her, his eyes widening in astonishment over just _exactly how wet she had become…_

Tentatively, he spread her legs apart, and descended his lips her sensitive folds, licking as slowly as possible her moistened entrance. She screamed, but wantonly ached closer to his mouth, her voice as if eager for him to continue his magic, to continue his torturous rhythm against her. He closed his eyes in contentment – she tasted ineffably sweet, her scent one more raw, more pure than the alcoholic remnants of her swollen lips, prompting his member beneath him to solidify even further. He was sure, that if he didn't get his share of her sooner, he'd possibly explode in frustration, but he needed her to be ready for him, and he knew just exactly how to prepare her…

In the next instant, he divulged his tongue inside her, evoking her to inhale sharply, her body freezing underneath his hands. Pleased with her reply, he inched his face closer, and stroked with a sensual adagio the inner tissues of her core, causing her legs to buckle, her moans metamorphosizing into fluent screams of unadulterated passion. Cupping her behind, he continued to lick pugnaciously her walls, and with his other hand massaged circularly her clitoris, applying just enough pressure to expose her to true insanity.

"J-joshua!" she shrieked, inclining her back, "I-I can't…please!"

_Oh. _His tempo increased, his tongue more frantically caressing her, the moistures of his mouth mixing with her wallowing juices. A hollow feeling overcame his chest as her skin heated up, trembling just too rapidly for her own good...his nails dug into her legs, merging within her pain with indescribable pleasure, the most intense, outstanding sensations she had ever experienced in her maiden life…

Just when she was on the verge of imploding, he drew back, and licked, _very sexily _the leftovers of her arousal from his lips. Before she could indignantly protest, he had already lifted her in a princess carry, and in a staggering few steps tossed her mercilessly upon her bedsheets.

She squealed, just in time for Joshua to slip from his boxers and tower over her, his eyes reminiscent of a hunter, looming expectedly over his exposed prey. Before she could…do anything, really, he once again forwarded their kiss, this time not to devour and rid her of breath, but to muffle what might potentially shatter the quiescence of Dres Van Manor.

Prudently on his knees, he prodded his bare member against her entrance, once again spreading her legs, wide until her maximum capacity. He felt slightly guilty, for although this particular pose would guarantee her the most pleasure, it would also convince excessive pain upon his initial entrance. She would be able to feel _all of him_, every, single, last inch of him inside her dampened walls…

Exhaling in her mouth, he drew back, a slightly apologetic look in his eyes as he addressed her flushed expression,

"Don't be loud." He commanded.

She blinked in confusion; however, her mouth popped open in a shrilling scream as he roughly penetrated her in one quick motion, intent on minimalizing her moment of pain as much as possible. He gritted his teeth, his breath caught in his throat over just exactly how tightly she hugged him – it was as if Stephanie's body was tailored inexplicably for his, almost as if he was her creator. She was the Galatea to his Pygmalion, the ivory cynosure that truly came alive under his touches, her pale white limbs flushed with color when he mounted her every corner… tears hovered over her eyes, ones that Joshua softly kissed away, in the gentlest manner imaginable as his heart inflated in endearment…

"It only gets better from here," he whispered, and she nodded, lingering scintillations of dubiousness still pasted across her features.

Timidly, he positioned her ankles widely to his side, beginning to move in a tormentingly slow cadence, his gaze glued on the unrelenting manner she bit into her lip. However, as time progressed, a blank look soon overcame her as he dimmed irises rolled back unto her head, her throat irregularly heaving…her moan returned, more unbalanced, more recurrent than before. Taking her reaction as ready reassurance, Joshua withdrew himself from her, only to plunge himself fully and completely inside entrance, the tip of his manhood slamming ruthlessly against the very end of her core.

"J-joshua!" she shrieked, her fingers vehemently wrinkling the niveous sheets below her. A growl escaped the prince's throat as he felt her walls convulse, ever so evanescently, but not yet enough to drive him over the edge. _Not nearly enough._

An ancient fire rekindled in Joshua's veins as he increased his tempo, winning from her the most resplendent screams he had heart up to point. She was indescribably tight, so tight that a sheen of sweat covered Joshua's skin as he slammed himself inside her, his teeth clattering with the sheer effort he employed. Even through his blurred conscience, he knew that he should definitely treasure her more – show her tenderness and devotion, and through his love-making speak exactly how much he valued her above all. However, when they truly became one, his previous assentation became at once irrelevant. There was no way, not even if the curse of Holy Nobel Michael wrathfully descended on him that very second, could he stop from ravenously ravishing her body. The muscles of her stomach elevated with his every thrust, as if his member pierced and extended through every part of her…as her breasts bounced animatedly, he released one of her ankles and pulled on her nipple, twisting it within his fingers and agitating her moans even further…

He was mind-blown. There were no words to describe his ecstasy as he surmounted her, repeatedly without any vestige of earthly restraint. Her voice soon grew weak, exhausted by his advances, her high soprano substituted with heavy breathing and rosy cheeks that were so red, Joshua feared that they would roast her mind as collateral damage…her hands had long abandoned their purpose, and were now angled lifelessly at her sides, their only detectable motions the shockwaves of Joshua's primal penetrations.

Something splendid and anonymous washed through his body. He could feel his quakes of pleasure overpowering him, and with her gaping mouth and vaulted back, he knew that she too approached her end. Giving her one last, ultimately powerful pound, he groaned as he released inside her, his hot seed spilling into her body mercilessly, emptying Joshua of his torturous buildup. Milliseconds later, she too voiced her release, and chanted his name with the talents of a hypnotist as she mirrored his stupor, her lithe body immediately relaxing underneath his touch…

He closed his eyes, overwhelming, true, unalloyed happiness warming his heart. _Even through his drunkenness, he couldn't believe it – _this gorgeous princess had finally become his wife. She was now his, just like he was hers. They were at last, in every definition imaginable, a married couple…

"Joshua?" she glanced, half-heartedly at him through her lashes. "That was…quite the work out…" her luscious amber tendrils pasted against her skin, Prince Joshua could swear that she was smiling, that she was just as contended as he was in their most recent journey. He couldn't help but steal a few more glances towards her naked body, gulping _obligatorily_ in the process. _Good god, what the hell was she doing to him? He was awestruck at just how beautiful she was, and how much her every gesture dispensed an irrefutable allure, one that he would perhaps never be able to overcome._

A ray of incandescent moonlight flew within her window, illuminating her expression with the silver epitome of serenity. She was adorned with such profound peace, that from his heart actually emerged malicious envy, as if he was jealous of the moonlight, in all its fugaciousness kissed her more elegantly that he had. As the thought made its way through his mind, Joshua could feel himself harden, once more aroused by the way she beguilingly glimpsed at him…

"Stephanie," he reached out to stroke her cheek, "How do you feel?"

She sighed, her fingers closing on the pillow beside them.

"Fine. Better than fine, but tired."

_Tired huh…_to test the veracity of her body, he traced his fingers down her neck, her collars and down to her breast, to which he evocatively taunted its peak until it stood tall and hardened. Her thighs came together involuntarily, potentially shielding herself from another one of his assaults; but otherwise, she firmly shut her eyes and moaned softly to his stimulation, her breath increasing in ecstasy…

With his thumb, he forcefully rubbed against her, until her back curled forward to meet his fondles. Aroused, Joshua pulled her close, burying her efflorescent hair deeply in his chest. He wanted nothing more than to absorb her into his body, to keep her with him, forever and always as one, but alas, the night shall soon end, and before the sun interrupts their love, he'll make the most of every remaining moment of darkness.

"Joshua…" she placed her elfin palms against his muscles,

"You're not planning on…mmph!" she must have felt him pressing against her leg, but her remonstration was to no avail, not while he desired nothing more than to claim her in full.

Somewhere between their kisses, the Dres Vaninan prince had grinned as he discovered a new way to bring her incomparable pleasure. It would be surely daring, especially since her window permitted the crepuscular moon its vision; however, the slightly more exhibitionistic nature of their act would also contribute immensely to their lust, perhaps even expediting her release.

This time, whilst occupying her lips, Joshua slowly eased himself into her, delighting in the snug hugging sensation of her tissues against his member. The remnants of her dampened release were still evident inside her, facilitating his intrusion as he once more met her end. Her lips trembled when his tongue made a synchronized entry with his masculinity, demanding both her openings with no viable clemency.

After another heated make-out session, Joshua retracted, and gazed at her adoringly in her opaque ochre irises.

"Put your arms around my shoulders." He said. As if ridded of individual autonomy and will, she complied immediately without protest. Satisfied, he reached out and encircled his waist with her legs, locking her ankles firmly behind his back.

"Hold on," he instructed.

Her yelp turned into a string of merry laughter when he hauled her up from their bed and travelled to the window. With care, he arranged the curtains in a way that would insulate her back from the walls, then slammed her against the pale beige velvet before placing a dulcet kiss on her left cheek.

"Stay still," he growled, breathing tantalizingly against her bare shoulder. "Don't move, or else we both fall."

She eyed him curiously, just for the briefest of moments before crying out, her hair roughly interweaving his smooth violent strands as he started to pump her, the motion of his hips unyielding as the first snowstorm after a decade-long, plaintive drought. There was a desolate regality in the way he clutched her bodice, something…imposing in the way he bestowed audacious hickeys against her skin. She mirrored his passion immaculately as she clung onto him, even knowing that her name and reputation were at stake, even knowing that despite everything, she would wake up hours later with shame and regret in her heart. However, that was merely for the sake of speculation, for in that moment, the newlyweds forsook everything except for their slapping skins, interspersed breaths and united bodies.

_ They were close, morbidly close to her balcony window. But she know he wouldn't stop, just as he knew, that no matter what wild manner he attempted to foul her that night, she would assent obediently, withdrawing all her restraints. _

_ …_

The moon was at the sky's zenith, foreshadowing a youthful and restless night within the felicitous grandiose of Dres Van Manor.

**Chapter XII **

Gold.

Gold had always been a fabulous color. It didn't assume the radiance of white, or its distilled purity; neither did it possess the resilience and mystery in of black. It differentiated itself from serene blue by its superior vibrancy, and from tranquil green from its independence from Gaea's natural allure. It sired silver, the colorless, twin-shadow of gold, one perpetually ranging second in place against its remarkable master. It definitely outshone grey – the depressing, murky shade that although contrasted incongruously the rest of the color spectrum, dispensed a strange sense of looming terror. It was almost as if, when subjected to the color for too long, creatures of the most devilish nature would relinquish themselves from its indiscernible depths.

Gold, was natural, in a certain sense. Not earthly natural, for the various shades of aqua and emerald that dominated our planet failed to share the sentiments of gold. Instead, gold was more of an attribute of the sun – the sovereign, the indisputable centerpiece of our solar system, directing order and vanquishing the chaos that is darkness. Gold is the color of light, of guidance, of warmth and beginnings, for it is the first ray of gold shattering the shadowy skylines that marks a new initiation, a replenished scenery to welcome yet another hustling day.

As brilliant glimmers of gold transcended her open windows, our beloved Dres Vanian prince, who had just exhausted his fetching new bride with their ceaseless love-making the previous night furrowed his fierce brows in annoyance. He was, under every indication not yet ready to rouse from his sweet slumber, and thus shifted his weight to his side, conveniently embracing her bare shoulders with his muscular arms. Even though he was but half-conscious, he nevertheless smiled when he felt her beside him, for she was the other part of him, the tailored puzzle piece that completed his soul.

He had never felt such happiness in his life. For the longest time, Joshua venerated his solitude – he thought that any sort of companionship hindered his abilities, in both personal and social domains. Emotions were unnecessary drawbacks that hadn't benefited him, in any plausible way in life. For sadness strayed him from his judgement, while happiness inflated his self-worth to realms unreasonable. However, now he knew, like nothing he had even before the magnificence of humanity, the incredible remunerations that love and devotion could bestow upon his heart. It was as if he was created anew, ever single belief he had established when he was a child overturned into something more, something vivacious and full of light, something that for once made him see hope, hope that happiness for the lonesome Dres Vaninan prince was, ultimately possible.

Twinkles of heavenly warmth danced across his skin, caressing him with the ethereal wonderment that is morning light. He always had, before that day detested the sun; however now, through his sluggish senses, he decided that he no longer fostered against it a grudge. Not anymore.

Quiescence. Silence. Pure silence was daunting, for it depletes one of the gift of sensory navigation, balance, leaving our only remaining abilities smell, taste and vision. Whilst vision was a metaphor for control, taste for analysis and smell for…well, personally I've never thought about what smell could possibly represent. Hedonism, perhaps? For the pleasant smells of life are far more plentiful than the rather repulsive. The ability to hear, however, is similar in dimensions to sight, for it permits us to strive, to ascertain what cannot be ascertained, to determine what is falsifiable. However, more often than not, silence foreshadowed a monstrous storm, one brewing under the surface of an illusion of tranquility.

For Joshua, that storm had arrived the moment princess Stephanie opened her eyes, and focused her dreamy gaze on the naked prince before her. He didn't immediately register the severity of his environs, however, when her startled scream reverberated through her room, his gardens and perhaps even the rest of his kingdom, his day had finally begun.

"JOSHUA LIEBEN." She shrieked, "WHAT THE ****ARE YOU DOING IN MY BED!?"

"Your Highness," said Jan as he curiously scrutinized his atypically ebullient master. "Has something happened?"

His words were an understatement, compared to Joshua's true elatedness. For once at the breakfast hall, he wasn't obdurately buried within his newspaper, but was facing his audience, in this case Jan, with a full on, excusive view of his handsomely sculpted features. Hell, he was even humming to himself, a soft harmony reminiscent of the oceans, in their splendid sapphires before sunrise, or perhaps the color of the skies approaching the twilight graves. Now, our prince was an unusually talented singer, however, his gifts were often left unappreciated, more by himself than anyone else. He had believed that anything musical, but non-instrumental was detrimental to his princely aura, and he cursed himself gravely for not encompassing the skills upon the piano, like Prince Keith, or the violin, for those such as Prince Roberto and Prince Wilfred. Such an attribute suited street performers and celebrities, not a noble like himself.

If anyone was deemed fortunate enough to capture Prince Joshua when he was in the singing mood, it was his steward, Jan. Though, even that was surely a rare phenomenon, so whenever Prince Joshua would go as far as to produce even a peep, Jan would instantly retrieve his loyal voice recorder, hoping to chronicle his Highness's effervescent melodies. When the two had been in their youths, sometimes Jan would quickly produce his cello and accompany his master; however, as times progressed, Joshua's interest in music diminished, and abandoned a forlorn Jan, who was forced to practice in secret.

"No." He said whilst wearing a somewhat peculiar smile. "Nothing. What would make you think that?"

Jan inclined his head, perplexed. "Because, Your Highness has been singing all morning. Could it be that your passions for music have revived?"

It was truly a nefarious crime of nature, how one could sound so earnest in but one question. Usually, Jan's enthusiasm would have possible revolted Joshua – for he believed that those who exist in their most innocent, primitive state were the most respectable. Not today. Today, our Prince was still much too absorbed in his memories of the night before to genuinely attend to Jan's enquires.

"Yeah," he mouthed absently to himself. "That must be it."

He recalled, the scent of her on his lips, the way she had squirmed when he would even go as far to stroke her skin; the manner in which she would cling helplessly on his shoulders when he ravished her against the wall, on the couch, and at one point, on her balcony. That was a daring suggestion on his part, as he was sure that no paparazzi, nor any of his castle staff would linger that late into the night. The logic behind it was, that with the contrast of the winter cold, they would hold on one another not only for pleasure, but also for warmth, thus merging the desire for sex and survival into one. Miraculously, it worked – her orgasms were so intense that, if any of his staff were awake and wandering the manor at night, they would have definitely blushed to the evocative nature of her voice, _his name, _and perhaps even the sound of their meeting bodies, slamming against one another as if there was no tomorrow. To the lustful Prince's immeasurable fortune, they had the entire world to themselves, with only the celestials as testimony to their love…or more accurately speaking, _his love. _His Princess, on the other hand was far too intoxicated to truly distinguish what had went on, which was exactly why he had been the sole recipient of her unyielding wrath earlier that morning.

He liked it when she laughed, when she argued with that eloquent tongue of hers in the most profound of matters; he liked most things about her, however, her anger was perhaps something he never wished to experience again. She had been so keen on relinquishing her rage, that she didn't even notice that amidst her screaming, her blankets had completely fallen from her shoulders, and thus provided Joshua another private, face-on view of her naked body. Only after several minutes of one-sided screaming on her part, did she realize that her husband had been starting at her with a concentrated grimace and extremely flushed cheeks.

That was when she brusquely threw a pillow at him and demanded his departure.

"Your Highness. Are you alright? Shall I call for the castle physicians?" For someone like Jan, that was perhaps the most apprehensive he would ever sound. Joshua blinked, his thoughts scattered, and refocusing on the anxious expression of his butler, who in his impeccable poise carried a bottle of wine in his hands.

"That won't be necessary." He said, irritated. "There's nothing wrong with me."

"Are you sure, Your Highness?" Jan remained unconvinced.

"Yes." his impatience grew, but decided not to continue their agitating conversation, for the sake of preserving the memories of their blissful night. So to effectively shut Jan up, he stood up from his seat and placed towards the dining room exit, and didn't hesitate to clasp his confused steward on the shoulder.

"You worry too much."

Jan had wanted to respond something, but was robbed of the opportunity as his prince disappeared within the manor corridors. Though, as soon as Prince Joshua had left, a soft, relaxed look overcame Jan's features, as if he had just witnessed an early-bird Christmas miracle of sorts. To be fairly honest, he was probably correct in his assumptions, for even though the staff had yet to arrange the lights and ornaments anticipating the joyous holiday, there was nevertheless a subtle change in the atmosphere of the castle. During previous years, Jan was the one who initiated the 'Christmas spirit', usually by dressing like Santa Claus and singing carols while simultaneously encouraging the maids to join him. At first, his efforts were to no avail, for the rest of the manor feared the scrooge of a prince, their trepidations overpowering their longing for celebration. However, as years went on, Prince Joshua became more disinterested in scolding their 'insolent changes to the castle interior', and whenever even a streak of red, green or gold entered his vision, he would seek refuge in the forever unchanging scenery of his office, sipping coffee over a stack of documents and the acoustics of some nameless musician he'd fished up from the archives.

This year, the prince was different, in both actions and demeanor. It was clear what the reason behind this change was, but Jan dared not to elucidate on the matter, not quite yet. His development was still far too shallow, his pride too fragile for any formal confrontations, especially since his _reason_ challenged him on every occasion that she encountered.

But maybe, just maybe, Jan thought to himself with a chuckle.

_ Maybe, this year, Prince Joshua would be the one to pioneer the holiday festivals. _

_ …_

_ Oh. _Prince Joshua finally realized that Jan had been correct – his rather annoying habit of humming to himself had resurfaced once more, and clung on to him like an unwanted disease. He recalled resolving this issue when he was but fifteen years old, and after nine years of peace, it had returned, in a deeper and indefinitely more experience voice, that until that moment Joshua retained his ignorance to its existence. He didn't know what to make of it, and much to his own disgruntlement, he was infuriated.

"Funny," his head snapped up at her hostile tone. "I had no idea that demons could walk in sunlight."

She was only three steps away from him, her arms crossed flatly over her chest as she glared at him with lavish contempt, the fire in her eyes threatening to burn him in its perpetual glory. Her hair, atypical of its cascades were neatly pinned up on her head, and fastened in place with another one of her shimmering diamond pins. It appeared that her anger from that morning had not completely dissipated, and Joshua wanted to say something – perhaps of comfort, or maybe to justify why he had permitted their night together to happen, despite knowing her feelings, or lack of feelings for him.

He had just opened his mouth for speech, when his gaze promptly flew to the dauntless red markings upon her neck, as if genetically imprinted roses, birthmarks upon her creamy white skin. He couldn't help his admiration, for they looked as if they _belonged_ with her as a reminder of _who she belonged to, _and exactly _how she belonged to him._

But despite how he wished for them to persist, they would bring upon her grave shame if she was seen by anyone else in this state. Fortunately for her, her husband possessed the acumen to resolve her predicament within but a light arrangement; however, it wasn't particularly to his favor to immediately inform her of her mishap, at least, not before he would make her blush because of it.

"They can't," he replied, "But there's no sunlight here in the hallways, so even if I was a demon, I would still be able to roam freely without restraint."

"Well that's a pity," she narrowed her eyes, "I was hoping that you'd perish to flames right here, right now. That way, at least you'd be able to redeem a little bit of what you _did to me last night."_

To his astonishment, she appeared more ominous than she sounded – so was her entire disposition showcased to emphasize a point, or was she still somewhat mentally inconsistent, due to the large volumes of liquor she recklessly devoured last night?

"Is that an invitation?" aside from the teasing tone of message, his expression remained hard, unchanged. "It's rather unbecoming of a lady to mention to mention things of such a devious nature."

Her eyes augmented in half-spite. The other half was conflated with aghast blushes that mirrored the evidences of their love mockingly embellished upon her neck. Joshua actually wanted to laugh, but decided not to aggravate her fury by chuckling out loud.

"Unbecoming?" she came closer to him, raising her chin indignantly, reminding him every inch of a regal Queen in full-bloom. "Don't be a hypocrite, Lieben. Unbecoming won't even begin to describe how deplorable you were…" her breath was caught in her throat, propelling her to inhale heavily before continuing,

"You shouldn't be allowed to live." She spat.

He raised his brow. It was surely unanticipated how weak she sounded…was it because that there was dissonance between her thoughts and words, or was her shame so overwhelming that she was depleted of the heart to scold him. An omission of strength was the last thing he would expect from her, but aside from the emerging guilt that Joshua underwent, he couldn't help but grasp onto the fragments of optimism, of faith that surreptitiously crept into his conscience.

Lately, it seemed like that all he did was hope. Hope for the manifestation of the impossible, for the establishment of things he would have never imagined when he was…_sane_, perhaps. Or, more specifically, hope that maybe, her lack of anger was due to the fact that she might have harbored scintillas of love for him. Just a little, the tiniest amount would suffice.

"You should watch your mouth," he said, and leaned himself against the majestic tapestries that ornamented his walls, "It's a wife's duty to show her husband the respect he deserves."

Before she could respond, he raised a thumb to her lips and firmly stopped her halfway, bluntly denying exactly how sensual she felt underneath his fingers. The rush of ecstasy from the previous night returned, but he readily suppressed it, "Furthermore, if I died right now, then you'd instantly become the laughing stock of Dres Van manor."

She couldn't speak, but her lips quivered in the motion, _why?_ Peculiar how she didn't bat his hands away, but remained constant in her stance, awaiting the denouement of his claim.

"Because," he traced his finger over the velvet of her collar, slowly and sensually down the nape of her neck…he bore his eyes into hers, silently challenging her restraints, and smirked in triumph as her lip popped upon, speaking more of her bodily reaction than she can ever persuasively formulate into words.

"Because," he explained once more, "The markings on your neck…they're rather bold, don't you think?"

Realization dawned upon her features, and as her hands flew to the hated patterns, Joshua drew back, but not until he swiftly retrieved the clip that fortified her amber tendrils in place. A vibrant cataract landed gracefully upon her shoulders, and in its exhilarating motion efficiently concealed the line of hickeys that her maroon gown failed to contain.

"There," he said, "Now you might be presentable for once."

She blinked, softly twirling her fingers through her fallen strands as she retorted, "Thank you…I think. But I'm always presentable, in case you haven't noticed."

"Hm." He pretended to scrutinize her by looking her carefully up and down, a somewhat disapproving frown hovering about his lips. "Yeah. I've definitely seen better."

He could practically hear a nerve snap inside her pretty little head. She crossed her hands over her hips, suddenly ferocious in both pose and attitude as she retorted, "Oh really? Then pray tell, why did you sleep with me last night, if you find me so 'physically unappealing'?"

"Why do you keep bring that up?" he bellowed. He wasn't genuinely angry. Not at all. This response of his was rather one conditioned, one that most his castle had grown accustomed to over the years – it spontaneously escaped him whenever he was found in a foreign situation, or one unwarranted of maintaining his princely poise. Prince Roberto had much insolently coined his personality as 'tsun-dere', a phrase only the Oriens prince and the Altaria prince himself comprehended in terms of meaning. That, was perhaps the closest Prince Roberto and his beloved G-money would ever get.

"Because its leverage against you," she said without mercy. "Because I made a mistake, and you, Prince Joshua Lieben, chose to take advantage of me when I was vulnerable." She sighed, and shook her head desultorily in dismay, as if unable to accept the veracity of her very own words.

"That's not something a noble like yourself – No. That's not something any man should do, especially to a girl who's five years younger, and is of royal ori-"

"Girl?" he interjected with a caliginous look, and strode closer enough to her so that she could feel his breath "That's inaccurate. After the activities we engaged in last night, you are no longer by any definition, _a girl._"

She huffed out her cheeks, utterly flabbergasted. She held such resemblance to a…_cat, _that he nearly bolted away from her in an instant. For her sake, he held his restraint, but at the price of large beads of perspiration now dripping down his back,

"Well then," she took a deep, prolonged breath,

"If only my father was alive to hear that."

Her tone was largely ambiguous, vague to the extent that he nearly attributed to something satirical, or a statement teasing him. However, being the inherent skeptic that composes Prince Joshua Lieben, he corroborated her slight lack of breath and faintly exasperated eyes with…pain.

"Stephanie." He asked, careful not to offend her, "Have you taken offense to what happened between us last night?"

She cast down her lashes, her lips embellished with a small, rather forlorn ghost of a smile. "To be completely honest, as much as I'd like to execute you on the spot because of it, I can't blame you for the entirety of the crime."

"What do you mean?"

She inclined her head, and peeked up at him through a mesmerizing gaze of fire, "Granted, it's within reason to hold you responsible; however, it takes two to make a mistake, and I'm just equally guilty in yielding to your advances in the first place. It makes me just as reprehensible, and I'd rather not bear the name of a hypocrite by condemning you, and you only. Unless," she pointed towards his head,

"Unless, you guilt-tricked me into drinking only for the sake of sleeping with me, then, the fault would be entirely yours."

She was…calm, like the serene tranquility of an ocean after sunset, before the moon would rise and elicit the evening tides to dance their cadenced progression. It was as if her anger that morning ceased to exist, and was replaced with a contingency scheme of the utmost…maturity. He had half-expected her to lash out, to either physically assault him, or bring him such emotional horrors that would once again taunt his valueless tears.

_Unpredictable. That was the best way, perhaps the only way to describe his princess._

"That was never my intention," he smiled, "But it seems like the heavens were in my favor."

"Wow, now I'm offended."

Prince Joshua shook his head with blithering nonchalance. "What I meant was, that last night meant more to me than you could ever imagine, and I have only God to thank for that."

"Really?" she arched her brow at him, and too leaned against the tassels of his golden tapestry. "Because by what I've gathered from Jan, you're quite famous amongst your staff for being the stubborn atheist that you are."

He laughed, unaware of exactly how infectious his laughter appeared to every other soul in the castle, and to her – how her heart thundered out of its lassitude and into something stronger, more prominent, more…_alive. _The sun glistening through his windows rendered Joshua's body a marvellous chiaroscuro, a sight only portrayed by the most gifted masters of their brushes. However, can beauty truly exist without recognition, or without those with the mental and imaginative capacities to appreciate its frameworks?

Stephanie didn't know, for due to some unknown reason, the man before her, the man whom she despised with such potency appeared…different. Just slightly different. Subtle changes. Like a rearrangement in the gossamers of a cobweb; or the implantation of a new species of evergreens in a vast forest of green. That kind of different. One that should, under all circumstance retain its indistinctness, its lack of vitality and color. But, it was these exact variances that the Nerwan Princess paid her exclusive attention to. Variances so small, so insignificant that they go unnoticed, ignored and forgotten. It was due to the namelessness of certain aspects in life that marked them as extraordinary – it's because we've stopped searching for answers, because we know that with our earthly proficiencies, we cannot ascertain the truths behind their veils of secrecies, or why they had chosen a path of existence in the first place. Stephanie couldn't quite tell what had changed about the Dres Vanian Prince before her, and somehow, just somehow, she actually liked it for a second there.

I don't know about you, dear readers, but for a girl of sixteen like myself, I find this apparition somewhat romantic, and very much _magical._

Then again, that could just be me.

"I am, or I was." Joshua said without adverting from her eyes, "Though lately, I've discovered a new appeal in the concept of a greater power, somewhere out there."

"And why is that?" she asked,

He took one long look at her face, how earnest, pure, unadulterated her gaze was. It truly astounded him, how under the impressions of her devious brother, that this girl managed to protect her innocence – not naïve ignorance, no. He was certain that she knew of justice, of heart and kindness, of qualities that befitted her name, what she was; and was also precisely why he loved her like no other.

"Because I'm convinced, now more than ever in the existence of angels."

…

She blinked, unable to believe her ears.

Before she could say anything in return, he looked away from her, hoping that the dim lightings would have rendered his blush, less conspicuous. "So I figured, if they exist, then everything else might as well be true."

A ray of sunshine glided through the air. Joshua could see scintillas of dust that flew admits the lights, paralleling thinner, lighter, more transparent of snow. Making a mental note to admonish Jan for his lack of competence, he furrowed his brows, his fierce disposition resurfacing once more.

"That's a logical fallacy." She pointed out, "You're making a dangerous generalization."

"_That_, wasn't necessary" he pointed out, his tone interlaced with irritation.

"Actually, yes it was." she nodded, rather exaggeratedly to accentuate her point. Though, even through her rapidly bouncing curls, her smile was still apparent, alike a stunning rose blossoming about her features.

"I'm doing to prevent potential embarrassment on your part." He could barely contain his awe when she winked him, her irises impish with life. "Consider it…returning a favor."

_Oh. _He inched his face closer, "That's a rather dangerous thing to say. Are you implying that from this point on, that we've become friends?"

She pretended to contemplate intently his words, even going as far to close her eyes in frustration, knowing that the petite space between her brows would crease together, as if she was absorbed in the most pretentious of political dilemmas, instead of a simple declaration of friendship.

Just like she anticipated, her gesture drew him made, and he expressed his agitation by scoffing in a rather childlike manner, receiving from her merry laughter.

"No." she said between giggles, "That's not what I'm saying, per se. Though, I'll be willing to take a chance, that is, as long as you don't pull anything stupid or so impulsive, that not even Jan can drag you back from your borders of insanity."

_What? _He feigned a glare, "How dare you accuse me of impulsivity."

"Oh?" she challenged, raising herself from his sustaining tapestry of molten gold, "You drank yourself nearly dead last night, and you still think that you're not impulsive?"

"…" an involuntary pout emerged upon his mouth, causing her to laugh once more.

"Though, in all seriousness," Joshua's eyes widened as she held out her hand, her expression the paragon of perfection as he knew it, "I'm willing to call a truce. As much as I'd hate to accept this, Joshua, but one some level, we're a team. Better to cooperate than to antagonize each other, especially when we're clearly on the same side."

It was surely a miracle that she had said those words. He didn't, and couldn't await his conscience to motivate him otherwise before abruptly taking her hand. Then, as if deciding that his consent wasn't adequately persuasive, he roguishly lifted her fingers to his lips, lingering long enough just to emphasize exactly how happy he was.

"What was that for?" she curiously inclined her head,

"A celebration," he replied, "For our newly established friendship."

"Don't cross the line," she warned with wary but half-hearted eyes, "If you pull anything like that of last night, I won't hesitate to run back to Nerwan and declare war on Dres Van."

_Did she actually just say that? _Joshua knew well that her thoughts were against her words, however, even despite how much he loved her, he still couldn't help but sense a bubbling, slightly tense dissonance in the back of his skull, one that occurred only when the most concerning of incidents transpired.

"I wouldn't think twice of it."

Her lips pressed together, into a hard line that strangely resembled the mutated tulips that Prince Edward had gifted him. "You should really step out of the sunlight. Who knows when you'll burst into flames and ruin this pretty tapestry of yours."

He gritted his teeth, "If I perish in flames, then we shall burn together, as declared in our marriage vows. And last time I checked, we're still bound together by the Dres Vaninan royal accords."

"Wow. If I didn't know better, I'd say that was borderline romantic." She turned away from him, her gown trailing behind her a continuous maroon waterfall, one that reflected artistic shadows with the morning sun. As the rhythmic clicks of her heels announced her departure, the prince relaxed his shoulders, feeling the intangible, but nevertheless significant weight lift slowly off his chest. He felt happy, a slightly selfish, idiotic, and somewhat juvenile happiness that he would have detested, if he hadn't been so blindly attracted to her every movement, every expression and gesture. She didn't mirror his devotion then, but they could take small steps that would eventually accumulate into something great, something that perhaps would vanish the hollowness within his chest.

_Baby steps. _

A sparrow glided outside his window, its wings an enthralling sense of motion in liberty, as if it didn't possess the slightest care in the world as it shattered the boundless blue of the Dres Vaninan skylines. Its song was strangely mellifluous, raw in its nature and yet somehow enchanting in its incorruptibility, virtuous in its limpidness.

Joshua closed his eyes against the filtered sunlight, and allowed himself a moment of peace, before his mind flew to the night of their wedding, when his father had so uncharacteristically tried convincing him of producing an heir. He hadn't dwelled much on the subject, but it was right there and then that he realized, that some deep, dark and unknown part of him agreed with the King – not because he complied with his reasoning, but because he _wanted _to.

…

As if mystically on cue, a set of scurrying footsteps resounded down the corridors, the highly uncoordinated noise prompting Joshua to glare irately at its owner. Much to his surprise, he had located just the person he wished to speak with.

She was second in command to Jan, the eldest amongst his maids and for the last two weeks, Stephanie's personal assistant in private matters. If there was anyone who comprised of the wisdom of the subject that burdened his mind, it would, without argument be this woman. In fact, if Joshua's memory didn't fail him, then she should be welcoming her first grandchild within the next couple months…

He shook his head in frustration – for the life of him, he couldn't remember her name.

"Wait," he called out, just before she was about to turn at a junction. At the sound of his voice, she bowed, low in a reverencing curtsey, just long enough for the prince to jog himself over.

"I need to ask you a few questions."

**Chapter XIII**

Things were getting better.

He couldn't believe it.

First of all, the sunshine endured, bestowing on the Dres Vaninan landscape a luxurious shade of gold, one that implemented an impressionistic quality to the kingdom scenery. Usually, the sun would not persist during the winter, and by this time of year, the ceaseless autumn rains would have been replaced with crystallized, pale white versions of themselves – snow, but scarce amounts of it that transformed into repugnantly grey slush when they finally hit the ground. Due to Dres Van's consistently warm temperate, winter was deemed the shortest season of the solar cycle; however, this year, it appeared that his citizens would not be granted the chance to retreat into their homes for the upcoming snowfall. Perhaps there would be none, which for some who reverenced tradition, and for others – mostly the youthful population – intoxicated by dreamlands and fairy-tales, the alleged lack of a white Christmas shall prove very much disappointing.

However, to our amethyst-haired prince, he, more than others preferred the stark conflation of sunshine and cold weather. Joshua was never a fan of snow, for it was, after all, just frozen rain that possessed enough surface area to glide more desultorily, and somewhat more gracefully from the skies. Some thought that snowfalls were romantic, because every single snowflake comprised of a unique shape, autonomous to themselves and unyielding to conformity. For a kingdom like Liberty, one that excessively subjected public propaganda to individual freedom, snowflakes were an imperative motif, especially during the winter holidays. Joshua wasn't particularly against promoting personal liberties, no; however, he detested with inadequate passions anything that was decorative, or unreasoningly abstract in symbolism – everything to him had must be concrete, tangible and to a certain extent, surmountable.

That's why the untimely appearance of snow had always irritated him, precisely because it was unpredictable and somewhat tedious to clean up. Sunshine, on the other hand was warmer, less formidable to his kingdom and ultimately efficient as a source of natural illumination. Sometimes he'd fantasize over an eternal summer, one that would devour the remaining three seasons and reign supremacy. It would effectively reduce national electric consumption by thirteen percent, thus opening up more fees for equalisation payments, directed specifically to the eastern colonies. In addition, it would also resolve the floods of the western lands – Dres Van's indigenous forests and plethora of small cities – without intervention from the monarchy. Instead, Joshua would be able to concentrate more on reconstructing ruined agricultural fields, buildings and appraising the still-stirring unrest consisted of Nerwan.

Ah. Whenever his thoughts traversed to the subject of Nerwan, Joshua couldn't help but smile to himself, as if he was recalling a joke unparalleled in absurdity. He knew that it was immature of him, to after these escaping weeks, still retain his equivalence of Nerwan kingdom with his princess; but he couldn't help himself. It simplified matters to do so, especially since she was surprisingly affluent on the political matters of her country that he could have possibly anticipated. And, with their newly developed friendship, they were able to more calmly and fluently discuss the proper reparations, ones that would simultaneously minimize costs while maximizing benefits for _their _people.

Speaking of Princess Stephanie, Joshua could, even amidst his stone-headedness detect the elusive changes in her demeanor. For the past several weeks, no longer did she greet him with that antagonistic glare of hers, nor did she persist with her degrading comments and a haughty flip of her ochre curls. For a brief period after their declaration of companionship, she received him every morning at the dining hall with a semi-thwarting smile, one that although wasn't as spontaneous and radiant as the one she dispensed Jan, but was nevertheless heartwarming to the grateful prince. Baby steps, he had told himself, for the luxury of her yielding to his love overnight was still very much inconceivable. Though, he couldn't help but allow his mind to wander, to presume that her sudden demureness must relate to a subtle change in heart, and that, perhaps due to that much infamous 'Christmas magic' prevalent this time of year, maybe she would one day grow to love him.

Though, after a much irregular occurrence one Saturday, when Joshua occupied his attention with constitutional volumes in the manor library, his convictions, those particularly attributed to her indifference towards love trembled in its foundations. It was another one of those sunny days, where birds chirped in their melodic songs and the trees danced ethereally amongst the winds, the last remains of their foliage stubbornly glued to their lithe branches. Their overall appearance was bleak, unruly, and very much contributed confidence to Joshua's proposal of introducing evergreens into their forests.

He had been absorbed in the cursives of his ancestor's journal when he perceived the steadfast allegro of her heels echoing down the corridors, fragmenting his concentration at once. He had prayed, repeatedly with desperation for her not to intrude on his quiescence; however, his implorations were to no avail when the large obsidian doors of his grand library opened, and from its depths emerged her lissome form.

He recalled lucidly what she had worn that day. He had contemplated the color of her gown…strange - it was one of the most tranquil greys he had ever witnessed. Dove grey, was it? He couldn't discern the difference, but he did admire its square neckline, adorned with pearls in ascending sizes as they approached her chest, and the way its glimmering velvet enveloped her waist, highlighting just exactly how slim and well-toned her stomach was. It wasn't as long as the other maroon gowns she treasured, as it revealed somewhat her mouth-watering calves for him to see, directly before they were obscured by her blood-red heels.

Joshua wasn't really a proponent of the color grey – however, after scrutinizing her for a couple loaded seconds, he decided that it served as a remarkable encomium to her brilliant amber eyes.

"You're different," he said, his voice soliciting detachment.

She snorted, but in the next moment, a teasing smile emerged upon her rosy lips as she twirled elegantly, releasing from her an ostentatious ring of scintillating grey fabrics, made almost transparent white by the lingering sunshine in his chambers.

"Of course I'm different," she said while she spun, "You can't expect me to be the same. The exact same. One cannot completely reverse displacement into absolute consistency. I'm not a robot, which is, I might say, quite unfortunate for your clause."

_What? _He knitted his brows together, completely unaware of how to counter her comment, so instead, he settled on what he wished to convey literally before she completely misinterpreted him.

"I suppose grey suits you more so than red."

She stopped dead in her tracks, her expression semi-flabbergasted, the other dominated by pale crimson penumbras that marked her flushed complexion, possibly due to the difficulty of balancing in her extraordinarily sharp heels.

"You think so?" she enquired, and cast a self-conscious glance towards her dress, "I don't know, it doesn't seem to match my hair, or my eyes. At least, that's what Leo always said."

_What? _He silently shut the book in his hands and stood up from his seat, and with a much deadpan mien communicated his argument.

"Prince Leonardo," he attempted his finest not to unearth his discontent, "Lost the civil war and fled from his own nation. I think it's safe to conclude that his taste in fashion is also very much despicable."

…

He grew anxious when she blinked, an exaggerated glimmer of bewilderment swirling in her irises. He had wanted to say something, and was on the verge of doing so, when she laughed, her body shaking as she descended theatrically to the ground.

"What…what was so funny?!" he roared, and ran his fingers frustratedly through his violet gossamers. Much to his dismay, his hair felt unusually dry, like rowdy haystacks, depleted of their usual lushness, possibly induced by the desiccation of the winter air.

"Because," she said between lingering giggles, "How is that even remotely related to someone's ability to judge fashion?"

The prince had no response to that. So to mask his embarrassment, he threw his hands up in the air and ran into the rows of books that concealed the rest of the library, forsaking a breathless princess still abundant with merry laughter.

He wasn't particular fond of the prospect that he had humored her. As a matter of fact, he despised when anyone wouldn't take him seriously, or would unpleasantly point out one of his flaws, in both speech and mannerisms. At the time, he had ventured to cool his rising anger by investing himself into a rather unfamiliar volume of ancient Dres Vanian constitutions, settled on replenishing his ego by ridiculing just how bizarre some of those regulations had been. Thankfully, she had ceased her laughter and disappeared in the west wing of his library, scurrying over something he was much ignorant to. Not that he minded – in fact, he would be more than contented to avoid her for the rest of the day, especially after that embarrassing episode of his.

He couldn't tell the length of the interval before her euphonious soprano had resounded, altering him with her irresistible imploration.

"Joshua," she had said, her voice still slightly, agitatedly breathless, but was also tinged with anonymous desperation, one that at once captured his attention. "Are you still here? Can you help me?"

She…required help? Seizing this golden opportunity, he shot up eagerly from his armchair and stormed over her direction, and was much disgruntled when he couldn't competently locate her coordinates.

"Where are you?" he had called out, furious with his ineptitude.

"Here!" Accelerating his steps, Joshua counted mentally the shelves before finally locating her, perched in dangerous imbalance on a stepladder, her white knees pent in trepidation over its wooden apex. He would have laughed over exactly how comically she depicted herself, but he knew he would only be awarded with a very angry retort.

"What are you doing up there?" he said. She took one incredulous look at him before shaking her head in disappointment, traces of apprehension still apparent among her docile features.

"I was looking for a book. And clearly," she gestured towards the wobbling device beneath her. "It was too high for me to reach. Now I'm stuck on a ten-foot, not to mention incredibly ineffective ladder that might just break any second."

He circled the object, and discovered in awe that its nails were barely screwed in, creating a fragile visage that would break down if she moved another muscle. Had she not realized the ineffectual nature of the ladder _before _she climbed upon it? The very thought made him chuckle ephemerally, however just loud enough for her to manifest her aggravation.

"Oh, is my misery somehow amusing to you?" the delicate crease between her brows returned, prompting Joshua to hold his hands up in defeat.

"You're overanalyzing things." Her feet shook once more, which shifted the ladder across his shelf in such an instable, not to mention worrisome angle. Then, in a moment of historically unsurpassed madness – or, it could be a result of vigilant debate, I could not tell, for Prince Joshua held his arms out in amorphous embrace before calling out to his princess,

"Stephanie," he demanded,

"Jump."

Her eyes widened, astounded by the uncharacteristic revelation before her. "Are you serious? THAT'S your plan?"

"Then what's your suggestion?" he replied, patent with irritation. "It's the fastest way to prevent a broken leg on your part."

She groaned, but was no longer to derive balance from the object beneath her, for it slid further away from Joshua, on the hazardous edge of completely tipping over.

She leaped, her dress magnificently, enthrallingly drawing a divine trail though the air, its style ineffable, mesmerising the amethyst-haired prince and utterly distracting him from his designated purpose. Her legs were long, pale and splendidly well-toned – it wasn't the first time he had glanced her beauty, no. It had only been a week since they had exhaustingly ravished one another, but perhaps due to his muddled mind, he couldn't accurately recall just how…tantalizing her skin had been.

Before he could further muse over her, Stephanie had already encountered him head on, pushing him brusquely to the ground with the impact of her fall. Prince Joshua's back met the ground with bone-crushing force, not nearly enough to genuinely shatter his bones, but definitely provided sufficient persuasion for a pained scowl to escape his lips. His back felt incredibly stiff, his waist pressed hard into the opulent navy carpets embellishing the marble floorboards of the library…it wasn't until then that he truly appreciated their existence, for they impeded them from sustaining any serious injuries.

"Ugh…" she breathed, the honey remains permeating her breath nullified his senses, and at once propelled him to affix his eyes in hers. His speech had become adjourned halfway in his throat, his body immobile, and with laborious effort was he finally able to register the evocative proximity he found himself with her. There was but an inch of dreary space between them, and if he dared to incline his head just a little bit further, they would be able to kiss. The surreptitious thought soon became overwhelmingly inviting, which was quite ironic, considering only three seconds passed before she reacted to their closeness.

What Joshua had observed was her augmented irises and the perpetual, vibrant fires that ornamented their interiors. Her dark, ivory pupils dilated slowly as her mouth gaped open, suddenly immensely aware of her suggestive position. Her breasts had languorously spilled over his chest, and her square neckline delivered an exclusive view of her luscious cleavage, when paired with their irrevocably soft sensation was just enough stimulation to thunder his heart. Words tangled upon his tongue, Joshua's cheeks became flushed, his sentiments more than apparent for the entire universe to deduct its origins…

When he had cushioned her fall, his hands had automatically flown to her waist; and now that their limbs were dishevelled together, it almost appeared as if…they were utilizing the library for a more lustful pass time than its conformist purpose. The very thought of it made him blush, and by some mystical cue, so did she.

He was so certain, so irretrievably certain that she would assault him, possibly by slapping him across the cheek for so _naturally _securing her in place. However, he had been with her long enough to acknowledge that those assumptions of his, were usually proven incorrect, in one day or another. Though, even despite accepting her unpredictability, he still couldn't supress his awe when she enunciated those very words, without even bothering to move away from him.

"Thank you…for that" She had said.

He blinked, _had he truly heard her correctly?_

His gaze wandered to her lips, lingering every so fleetingly at their plump shapes, its color eliciting envy from even the finest of roses. She must have noticed his stare, for her creamy complexion surfaced pale pink shadows, and just ever so slightly, the prince felt her leg move shift between his, her skin sensually, unintentionally grazing his inner thighs…_or was it intentional? _He had but one way to find out,

He ached his neck closer, his mouth slowly arching towards hers. There was adamant deliberation in her expression, but she didn't retract from her pose, her only vestiges of motion the tightening of her fingers around his shoulders…

His lips barely grazed hers when the library doors burst open, revealing an effervescent Jan, who appeared not at all uncomfortable as he addressed the horrified pair;

"Your Highnesses, the snow globes have arrived."

Ah. The snow globes. That was a good story.

It had been originally Prince Keith's idea, to introduce collectible merchandise as a token of their marriage, or, more specifically, something that would dissipate Nerwan nationalism, like a peace offering. The arrogant Libertian prince had suggested something such as mugs or towels, the latter dismissed instantly by Prince Joshua, for he considered imprinting his image on toiletries was, at the end of the day, repulsive and very much demeaning.

He did admit, the idea held in itself a certain appeal – while it would simultaneously dissemble the Nerwans with a mirage of their love, it was also tend to the deficiency of royal funds after their excessively extravagant wedding. However, mugs appeared somewhat…plebeian, for the Dres Vaninan prince's tastes. Personally, he would have selected an object more decorative in purpose, or something that people were inclined to treat as a priceless antique rather than a common household utility. When he had informed the Libertian prince of his idea, his ears nearly exploded with Keith's indignant roars, despite the fact that the two had been separated by a vast ocean and conversed only through wireless devices. Joshua had been very much infuriated at the time; however, now that he was able to think of it, perhaps he too had fault in disturbing Keith's madness, particularly when he label his proposal 'unnecessary and juvenile'.

An initially orderly phone call soon deprecated to a heated screaming match, one that attracted much unwanted attention on Joshua's end. Jan actually had the audacity to knock on his door, three times in two consecutive hours, enquiring if Prince Joshua was feeling unwell. It wasn't until Prince Roberto, in his exuberantly ebullient manner interrupting their call did Joshua's anger temporarily subside; Keith, on the other hand, retained his childlike obduracy as he mumbled incoherent insults at the Dres Vanian prince.

Whilst ignoring his annoyance, Prince Joshua had asked for Prince Roberto's input in the matter at hand, to which he eagerly accepted. Sometimes, just sometimes, the verbal eloquence and flashes of acumen signature of the Altarian prince would truly astound Joshua, rendering him speechless at how the most twisted dilemmas were resolved with ease underneath his hands. This quality was exactly what differentiated Prince Roberto from the rest of the princes – his indecipherability, and his rather inconsistent enthusiasm that made him appear a decade younger than his biological age. Prince Keith, on the other hand wasn't too thrilled when Roberto advocated snow globes, since it encompassed both a distilled and undisturbed nature, and was appealing and admired by people of all ages.

At first, Prince Joshua hadn't agreed with the Altarian prince, for despite the visual appeal and languid efficacy of a snow globe, it had stricken him as something immature, not to mention a portion of the population, particularly those of the less ascetically appreciative fraction would regard it unnecessary. However, after Roberto cohesively explained the sentiments of the snow globe, Prince Joshua immediately changed his mind, which was also when Prince Keith, having his recommendation marginalized wrathfully hung up his phone, thus ending the three-way call.

From what he gathered from Prince Roberto, the snow globe served as a microcosm of reality – its beauty lay in its crystalline case, the stunning motion of miniature snowflakes of various shapes and colors dancing within the waters, and alas, the skilfully sculpted figurines that were often monumental statues of the century. It was strangely romantic, how Prince Roberto had told him of the powers of God, or whoever governed the celestial, in a snow globe, transferred their greatness to the owner of the toy. It was as if…they could see into a world of their choice with a surrealistic detachment, an objectivity unachievable in the hustling world we reside in. A snow globe, like the exquisite paintings that adorned his walls was a metaphor for control, but also for the fragility of perfection. Those who dare penetrate the thin layer of glass would abolish the heavens in that microcosm. The snow would no longer descend, and at the expense of air cracking into its surface, the oils that made its interior resplendent would emanate a rather ghastly scent, like the fragrance of feverously burning flesh, or carbon monoxide.

It…made sense, Prince Roberto's missive. However, personally, to Prince Joshua, it embodied far more than what the Altarian prince conveyed. The snow globe to him, represented undying hope, of an idealized, immaculate portrayal that would, perhaps one day transcend into the boundaries of reality. It was his futile, ardent attempt to close the distance between his dreams and those of actuality, though, he wasn't going to disclose this secret of his to anyone. Not anytime soon.

So it had been settled – to commemorate the most splendid wedding of the century, the staff of Dres Van manor would accumulate their talents in devising a gorgeous snow globe, sponsored by none other than the Lieben royal family. At first, Joshua had advised Jan to keep it to himself, but as time went on, he realized with consternation that his butler had announced the production of this merchandise to the entire castle. Which really wouldn't have been that much of a hassle, had he also not repeatedly stressed that its design would be conventionalized by the grumpy Prince and his equally incensed princess.

…

Joshua Lieben was a man of many talents. He was a musician, in the vocal domain as opposed to the instrumental. It had been adumbrated that the prince's skills were so extraordinary that birds were attracted to his songs, his tenor so engrossing that nature tranquilized beneath his melodies, as if intentionally silencing to better accommodate the reception of his voice. He was a writer – one very much self-proclaimed at that. Not in the traditional sense of 'floral prose', a phrase more often associated with the silver-haired, Levancois Prince. Prince Joshua's proficiency in _writing_ lay in his free employment of calligraphy, one that he interminably practiced during childhood and finally made impeccable the day of his coming of age ceremony, where he was instructed to write on a colossal screen his future aspirations as the 82nd sovereign.

But if anything, even in the most farfetched, most ludicrous connotation of the word, Prince Joshua was no artist. This drawback of his was among the others he masqueraded against the world, but at age fifteen, Jan had discovered the Prince's inability to architect anything even remotely visually likable, when he was asked to do a self-portrait as part of his training. Joshua had never been so humiliated in his life, his embarrassment peaking when Jan pressed his lips together in a hard line, his clear gaze nebulous and expression combating between the overwhelming desire to laugh, as well as the precautions not to offend his effort.

"I think…" he had said, his voice trembling, "It's very _original_, Your Highness."

Joshua felt like melting and disappearing inside a sewage flap.

Unfortunately for him, his artistic talents had dramatically declined over the years, and at the ripe age of twenty-four, it very likely hit its lowest point. Even if redemption was possible, Joshua wasn't completely certain that he wanted it, for the sole sake of preventing any master instructor to witness his atrocious drawings. However now, he regretted profusely his inability to dismantle his pride, especially when his entire castle of staff waited impatiently his completed product. There was really nothing he could do.

Which meant, the burden of reviving Dres Van's economy befell Princess Stephanie's elfin shoulders. Surprisingly, she didn't seem very opposed to the idea, and didn't debate further when Jan informed her of a three-day deadline.

This was where his second moment with her ensued.

He had been cognizanced by her personal maid that she preferred to design within his greenhouse, for she found his peculiar roses rather inspirational, specifically because of their rare beauty, as well as availability during the winter season. Upon learning this invaluable information, he had ran with inhuman rapidity towards the indoor garden, his speed half-prompted by his desire to see her, while the other half was gravely attributed by his limited leisure – he had but one hour before he would resume to official duties and political documents that by this point, were very much mind-numbingly dreadful.

The greenhouse was less humid this time round, its rows of efflorescence more vivacious, more erect as they testified his entrance, the way he fleetingly detangled his bangs before affixing his attention to her, and at last, the satisfied smile that materialized across his sculpted features. In elongated strides, he progressed towards her, and watched, spellbound by the concentrated manner that her pencil glided across her page. From its niveous depths emerged the most…blandiloquent design he had ever laid his eyes on. Joshua was never the one to speak of praise, but in that moment, he had been so irreversibly impressed that he wished to hug her, and to never release her to the devilish glances of other men…

However, as their current situation demanded, he couldn't foster anything beyond the simple, bland, tasteless:

"That's amazing," he mused, "How long have you been working on that?"

Her pen halted on her page, and through the screening shadows of her hand, he could somewhat make out the pristine linings of a dancing couple, their fingers intertwined in an intimate manner, as if between them flew the eternal chemistry of a true married couple. It didn't immediately occur to Prince Joshua that she had drawn the two of the two of them in motion, but before he could further elaborate his thoughts, her hand flew to his face, at once conquering his senses with her wisterian redolence – a fresh, revitalizing scent, reminiscent of someone who just emerged from a hot-spring.

"Don't you even think about it." she said, pressing her palm firmly into the planes of his eyes, "What you just did is a violation of privacy under three different statues, the penalization of which shall be held confidential until further notice."

He smiled, an expectant grin that dimpled his cheeks, "What constitution is this?"

She appeared to have considered his words, for brief few seconds before responding, "The Nerwan Constitution, under the First Amendment of 1953, Public Accord IV, section VII pertaining to public regulations, where as its jurisdiction-"

"That's unnecessary," he interrupted, and gently removed her wrist from his face, but in the next instant roguishly slid his fingers into hers, the action mirroring her image. "I am not a citizen of Nerwan, so your laws cannot condemn me. Furthermore," he laughed in triumph when her gaze lingered on their joined hands, discomfort apparent in her flushed cheeks and slightly quivering lips. Deciding it was probably optimal not to devastate things further, he released her before continuing-

_His expression became one of awe when her gaze threatened to burn a hole through his hand, as if distressed by its absence. However, being the skeptic that he is, he dared not tread those poisonous waters, especially when she was…not yet on board with his devotion._

"Furthermore," he gulped, his voice weaker than he anticipated, "I am the Crown Prince of Dres Van, and you are my Princess. So by all means, you are to abide by my rules before those of Nerwan's."

"Now that's just plain unfair," she grimaced, closing her sketchbook, its leathery embroidery bearing striking resemblance to her diary – they both comprised of patterns of patent wisteria, ones that circulated its cover in a funky peace symbol, moderately nostalgic of the 1980s…

"Joshua," she waved her hand across his face, "Is something the matter? You seem slightly out of it,"

He blinked, "Oh. There's nothing-"

She held up her white palm, and shook her head slowly in mock exasperation. "I get it, you want to see my drawing, don't you? But to be fairly honest, I'm really not that thrilled of allowing anyone but myself to see an unfinished product, especially when I marred it heavily with my last couple lines…"

She stopped when Joshua once again took her hand, this time more tenderly, more smoothly as he separated her fingers, creating just enough space for his own to ease their way through. Then, as silently as he came, he closed his hand around hers, feeling the soft, creamy sensation of her skin within his – her fluttering pulse, how musically nimble her bones were underneath his touch…he couldn't contain his approbations, especially since she had just declared herself a perfectionist, just like him.

With his untenanted arm, he patted her softly on the head. "I appreciate your hard work."

She smiled, a small, phantom like smile. "Thank you, Joshua. And here I thought you were completely made of stone."

_What? _He withdrew his hand, "That would be problematic, in more ways than one."

The prince turned away from her, at when his gaze encountered the mutated roses furrowed his brows, perplexed. "Why did you choose to come here?"

There was a moment of silence, followed by a faint shuffling noise. "Because these roses are different, and kind of magical."

"Magical?" he enquired, "Why do you say that?"

…

"Have you ever wondered why roses have thorns?"

"No." he replied honestly. "Why is that?"

"Because," her voice had a certain breathless quality to it, a serenity that he found particularly bewitching, "Natural selection. Roses are naturally sweet tasting, so before they became domestic plants, a thornless rose would be eaten instantly by herbivores. If they didn't have thorns, they probably would have become extinct by how."

_Where was she going with this? _He watched as she stood up from the stone bench, and slowly paced towards the flowers, her eyes quiet, composed. "These roses, after they're incorporated into another species, they become thornless, fragile and ultimately…weakened. But somehow, just somehow," she breathed, "They're infinitely more beautiful."

"To be honest, they remind me of myself." She chuckled absently, and glanced up at him through her lashes, her large amber orbs replete with laughter, "If feels like after coming to Dres Van, every single day, I grow less and less certain of my beliefs, Leo's beliefs, hell, even the beliefs of my family. For so long, our kingdoms have been feuding for dominance…and the costs we've exhausted have been immense. But at the end of the day, they seem worthless, _and I feel worthless for believing in those things."_

"It's not your fault," he said, "We're all shadows selves of our culture, tradition and the generations before us. What makes us great is that even though we realize the flaws of our backgrounds, we remain loyal to them until the very end."

"Really?" she asked, hopeful, "Are you saying that loyalty remains virtuous even when supporting the vice?"

…

_That wasn't…exactly what he was going for. _

"You never explained how you were similar to these roses."

"Oh." she smiled absently, to nobody in particular, "It feels like my thorns…are vanishing."

"Your thorns are vanishing?"

"Yeah," she took a prolonged breath, "When I was came, I had thought that my time here would be filled with hate. There were times that I even thought of murdering you for the throne of Dres Van-"

_Did she really? _Joshua held his breath, a nameless feeling overcoming his chest;

"-But now, I'm getting along with your staff, with Jan, and with you. I might hate myself for saying this, but I'm starting to see your views, and to my own dread, accepting them as well. I've seen your plans, your blueprints for reviving Nerwan, and Joshua, you have no idea how thankful I am. They're better than anything Leo could have ever summoned."

"So." She took his hand, her aloofness evanescent, "I apologize for being forward, but if there's anything I can ever do to repay you, Joshua. I'll do it, anything you ask."

…

That was a tempting offer. He could ask for her heart, for her love, for her eternal consecration; however, if those things were to be attained through promise, would they still…be real? Or would it become something illusive, something only seen through the most magical of looking-glasses?

If he were to ask, would a simple consent on her part suffice? Would something begged, something taken advantage of truly transform into something great? He couldn't bear with the prospect of a make-belief love, especially since the merits of their marriage were already tainted with a lie; already something that's deplorable in nature.

Was it worth it?

_The denouement to such a mystery would forever implore the negative. _

"Meet me in my room, tonight." He said, unwilling to meet her eyes, for his heart was heavy, heavier than he could have ever imagined possible.

"After dinner. I have something to show you."

**Chapter XIV**

Christmas was nearing.

Ah, the joyous holidays – for everyone else, it was a time of celebration, of gathering with one's family to compensate for year-long absence. They would host a feast – for the gingham bearing peasant, three courses, and for those who were fortunate enough to emerge within the aristocracy, a ten course meal that would barricade perhaps an entire night with the redolence of roasted turkey, fruitcake, and for those with particular affinities for sweets, chocolate. Then, after they so dauntlessly filled their stomachs to the brim of explosion, the children would retire to their rooms, their heads intoxicated with fantasies of Santa Claus, the hearty harbinger of presents.

There used to be a regulation for gift giving: perhaps it was due to the courtesy of Charles Dickens, or Clement Moore in his monumental poem, 'The Night Before Christmas'. The popular convention that deemed naughty children unworthy of accepting gifts could have originated from any of these two writers. Forgive me, for every year during the holiday festivals, my assiduous obsession with Christmas movies takes dominance, and thus hinders my better judgement for anything even remotely related to academia, or in this case, composition.

Regardless of my drawbacks, the interiors of Dres Van manor, unlike the rest of the hustling world was unremittingly tranquil - although its golden corridors were ceaselessly adorned with the most lavish of lights, lights created of a thin sheen of silver to facilitate maximum luminescence; while large lush Christmas trees marked every corner of every turn, it was nevertheless quiet, as if the castle embodied not a living spirit, but incorporeal ghosts. It was oddly depressing, how even despite his opulent expenses in emphasizing the castle's holiday zeal, that Prince Joshua couldn't assemble the tiniest tinge of excitement.

Of course, just like every other epic hero, whose name perpetuated through the ruthless turmoil of time, our very much competent, not to mention lovable prince harbored his own predicaments. Also corroborating with the quandaries of every legend of heroic valor, his Achilles' heel was marked by the existence of a girl, a girl who obdurately rendered his love very much unrequited.

Prince Joshua sat by his leather armchair, his tangled amethyst strands clutched tightly in his fingers as he watched his immense fireplace crackle, its flames of a draconian menace. Odd, really. Some say we perish in ice, some say in fire; but for our Dres Vaninan Crown Prince, he more or less favored fire, because the notion coalesced with most historical and religious accounts through history. Very rarely did he discover a description of, be it Heaven and Hell, or Tartarus and Elysium one coated in eternal ice. Dante's _Inferno, _Virgil's _Aeneid _and, the _Holy Bible _dedicated punishments with fire, to burn forever without refuge within their boundlessness, to cleanse ourselves of our earthly sins before redemption, or rebirth, or whatever. It didn't really matter to him.

It's funny, really, how we equate penalizations with extreme temperatures. Heaven, as Joshua imagined would be nebulous with warmth, with fluffy clouds that dispensed the sensation of cotton candy and virtuosic music – trumpets, if one were to solicit the specifics. While a brooding melancholia permeated hell's _atmosphere, _Heaven would be one more serene, more carefree, with a pale gold luminance and refreshing candor that prevailed amongst the angels. However, logically, is warmth not considered something desirable? Then why is heaven not engulfed in flames? Technically, once one released form their human confinements and transcends into those of spirits, then would temperatures still…matter? Furthermore, if darkness is defined as the absence of light, and if heaven is the embodiment of sublime light, then shouldn't hell be the epitome of darkness? Then where would the existence of hellfires come into play?

Joshua shook his head, abraded with his obstreperously scattering thoughts. It was a rather adverse habit of his, to distract himself from reality by imploring questions of the abstract, especially those that would never, or at least not for an incalculably long time unveil its panacea. Perhaps it was this exact, indecipherable nature of these questions that lured his mind, taunted his pride towards ascertaining their secrets, and thus, more often than not, Joshua found them adequately distracting, proving very much useful in his current situation.

He despaired what was about to come. For his own incapable eloquence, there was no way he could possibly break the news to her, without subjecting himself a fool, or someone who was truly so infatuated with heartlessness to disregard their friendship. He was certain that he would cry, and had thought of emptying his tears before her arrival, just to avoid awkward confrontations, and perhaps retain the little bit of respect she still had for him. However, his efforts were to no avail, for he had long forgotten how to weep tears of genuine sentiment. Though, he did furtively cry, many times over the years; however, they were meaningless liquids, ones only induced by the overwhelming scent of onions when he'd admonish his chefs for their rather infuriating lack of skills.

But alas, he had to respect her choice. Jan had, just several hours ago advised him against his resolution, with the argument that before them lay no more encumbrances. It was apparent to the Lord High Steward that his princess cared for him, that there were changes – minor, but nevertheless prominent changes in their interactions. Like, how her eyes would crinkle when she laughed, or how she would ebulliently greet him whenever he was to enter the dining hall, like his very appearance lit up her world like no other. Jan's words had been persuasive, so persuasive that Joshua almost accepted them completely, verbatim and without question.

However, a part of him knew that his butler was saying those things solely for the sake of comfort. That was just the way he was – his every phrase consistent of a somnolent quality, one that impedes rational scrutiny and strikes you directly in the heart. Hell, if Jan was ever, for some unknown and unpredictable reason, fired from the manor, he'd undoubtedly discover employment in the profession of a mesmerist, or perhaps one of those worshipped con-artists so prevalent within Oriens. Though, even despite Jan's advices, his moods didn't lift, thus his butlers voice had become but an incessant buzzing noise before the chafed prince finally chased him out of his room.

_This was what she wanted from the beginning. _He said to himself, _Dres Van isn't where she belonged. She was a free bird, and his manse was her cage, the very thing restricting her from becoming something of value. He not only wished to, but rather his obligation to grant her freedom, to as her husband grant her the life she truly deserved, truly deserved. _

It didn't matter how he felt. It really didn't. Joshua clutched the niveous parchment within his fingers, eminently supressing the surge of emotions that roared inside his chest. It was surely ironic – the prince who found love and devotion unnecessary was the one most intensely burdened by its magnificence. Ha. Funny. Or, it was exactly this abstinence that prevented him from developing a tolerance for love, especially when his bride was so…stunning, even amongst normal, non-enamored standards.

"Joshua?" she called through his door, "Are you in there?"

He didn't immediately respond, but instead shut his eyes firmly in dismay. His breath, this time even before she entered the room became caught in his throat, suffocating him with contrite invocations. With his oblique resolve and ultimately ineffective speeches, there was really, really nothing he could do or say to convince her to remain by his side…

"Joshua?" her soprano became higher, shriller, "Are you alright? I know you're in there, Joshua. Jan just informed me of your whereabouts moments ago, there's no way you-"

Her statement was interrupted when he opened his door, his expression replete with anonymous trepidation; but the moment their eyes conceded, he smiled, a warm, happy smile that made him appear years younger than his actual age. He looked as if an adolescent, a time where faith, love and aspirations domineered, prior to the exposure of the true darkness continually walking this earth.

"I thought you'd never come," he said, unable to hide the destitution interweaving his voice.

She placed her hands over her hips, and rolled her large amber orbs in a mocking fashion, "Of course I'd be here. A person of royal standings seldom goes against their word, unless the circumstances are inalterably dire. And besides," she shrugged in nonchalance, "I have nothing better to do."

He nodded, "Well then, come in."

He thought many things in the commoner world were stupid, one of them being the 'school girl' mentality, one that directed idiocy and sometimes, borderline delinquency amongst those besotted. However, he just couldn't help but react in the same fashion as she glided elegantly past him, her…somewhat less than appropriate neckline providing him another hauntingly resplendent view of her cleavage. _Was that intentional_? It could be, considering he'd never seen this particular gown before.

After a more concentrated scrutiny, he realized in astonishment that she, was for once, dressed up. Her pale eyelids were darker, dispensing a much more mysterious, more…_diabolic _aura that encased her graceful body; her nails were of the most potent of crimsons, a shade that mirrored the mouth-watering color of her lips. Now, he was sure that whatever scheme she fostered in that pretty little head of hers, it definitely included him yielding to her, possibly arbitrary, commands.

"Why is your room so dark?" she squinted as she stopped behind an armchair, "You can barely see a thing. You know, maybe this is why you're so gloomy all the time – it's hard to catch your breath in this place."

He smiled, and cast in her direction an adoring look. She was correct in a sense. It was indeed difficult to breath in his bedroom; however, what ultimately differentiated the two was that _his_ lack of breath wasn't caused by his choice in lighting.

"Bedrooms are for sleeping," he said, "Not for breathing."

Even through the radiance of his fire place – the only source of viable light in the room -, Joshua could see her scoff out adorably, her cheeks.

"Last time I checked, sleeping entails. No. Sleeping is entirely based on breathing. You know what," she shook her head in exasperation, "I take that back. Your gloominess is probably due to your constant lack of sleep."

He feigned a death glare at her, and leaning against his abnormally large bedpost, he retorted, "I don't want to hear that from a girl who thinks I'm a vampire."

Joshua could hear the air between them freeze, crackle, and in the next instant, mercilessly devoured by the fire. She bit down into her bottom lip, her brows furrowing together in concentration before a smirk materialized about her insolent mouth.

"Alright," she chuckled, the sound so contagious that Joshua couldn't help but laugh himself, "That's enough. So, pray tell, what did you want to show me?"

She inclined her head, perplexedly to the side as the smile on the princes' face vanished, dissipated as ethereally as it came. He feared telling her, for he was sure, that the moment he presented her with the option, she would flee from Dres Van without a second's deliberation. However, if it meant of her happiness, shouldn't he find condolence in tending to manifest her heart's desires?

"Joshua?" she inched closer to him, a roguish curl dropping before her forehead, "Are you okay?"

He blinked, dismissing his combating thoughts at once. "Yes. I'm fine."

Striding over to his very much overused armchair, he hesitantly retrieved the heavy stack of parchment, and with tentative fingers presented them to her.

"These," he enunciated every word slowly, clearly, and unbeknown to her, agonizingly. "Are our divorce papers."

Her alerted gaze shot up immediately, encountering his pained ones. "Are you serious? That was quicker than I'd expected."

"Yes." he breathed, hoping his voice hadn't yet betrayed his impassivity. "We've already passed the mandatory month-long period since our marriage ceremony, so now, it is perfectly legal to divorce within the capital-"

"But wait," she interjected, her tone wary, "I thought you said you'd rather wait a couple months before divorcing."

"Yeah." Outstretching a hand, he pointed towards a line of strenuous text in the document's topmost page, "This document, once filled out by both individuals requires an eight month long approval, but since I'm the crown prince of this kingdom, I can have it reduced to the minimum five-month long period."

"I shall start to work on my part. I understand the Dres Vanian regulations may be foreign to you, so please take all the time you need."

He cast his eyes down, his mind numb, his every though nullified with excruciating torment, a torture that gradually augmented with protracted silence. She didn't speak, but he could feel her stare piercing his skin, tearing his tissues and spearing through his chest cavities, and unravelling every senseless filament of his pumping organ, threatening to abolish the quintessential core of his existence. Surreptitiously did he steal a glance at her, and was irretrievably astounded when he discovered her docile features ominous. She didn't excite over the news, as he had anticipated; but neither did her expression exhibit any scintilla of emotion, or life, or, anything, really. She mildly resembled a shadow of herself, or a robot, fantastically constructed but of questionable origins. Or, if Lewis Caroll's imagination metamorphosized reality, then there would be no doubt, that the princess that stood before him was the 'alternative version' of herself.

Seconds, droned on as if hours. Just like how time crystallized truth by making them undeniable, time made Joshua's spirit aggravate in monotony. The longer she remained wordless, the graver his anguish grew, and soon, if she wasn't to say something, _anything_, even to assault him, he would gladly take it, for the alternative is just so damn disheartening.

…

The fire flickered behind her immobile form, their devilish gleams sardonic to the prince's vulnerability. It was as if they welcomed him with their embraces, as if they knew that upon the Princess' rejection, the only thing remaining of the former Dres Vanian Crown Prince would be a worthless, hollow shell-

"Joshua," she murmured, her voice weak, devoid of any remnants of vitality. He watched as she ran her fingers across the smooth leather of his armchair, her eyes following unfalteringly her trail of motion.

"Is this what you really want?"

There was a subtle elision in her last word.

He gulped, repressing with herculean effort the urge to scream his indignation, to say in the most sonorous voice he could manage just how much he _despised _the idea of not being able to spend eternity with her. Or worse – he could scoop her up in his arms, smother her breath with his tongue, rip that revealing dress off her body and please her impudently beautiful body until she'd faint with pleasure…

However, now, all he could do was inhale, desperately wishing that his back would remain erect.

He shook his head. "No. That's not what I really want. But it's what I'm willing to give you. I remember, Stephanie, when you asked me whether or not you were one of my people. Well," he came closer to her, hoping his phony smile wasn't yet unbearably disgusting, "You are. You're one of us now, but more importantly, you're a part of me."

He looked, deep and long into her eyes, and acknowledged in awe that her irises became iridescent, molten, in fact. Before he could comprehend what had just happened, a transparent trail slid down her cheek, marring her impeccable complexion with a fragment of imperfection, _a piece of something real._

Eager to ease her sorrow, he traced his thumb over her cheek, the gesture not to entice, but merely to comfort. He probably shouldn't have continued; however, the floodgates that he so hideously buried had finally unlocked, and from its shadowy depths rejuvenated none other than his courage.

"Above all, Stephanie," he breathed, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, "You're my wife. It's my duty to bring magic in your life, but somehow, I was doomed to fail from the very start."

Darkness was tedious, but right then, it made Joshua's tenor more sensual in tone, more alluring in amplitude and more gravitating in content. Darkness itself was suggestive – it had this way of manipulating atmospheres, defying the acuity of senses when exposed to light, and to a certain extent, factored as a hallucinogen…

"I'm sorry I forced you into this, Stephanie. I shouldn't have done that," she blinked underneath his touch, prompting him to press a soft kiss to her forehead. This time, he didn't linger.

"I hope that by granting you freedom, I can begin to redeem for the terrible things that I've done to you. But," he smiled, a small smile of ancient grief that, upon witness would wretch one's soul, "before you make your choice, I want you to know, that you've taught me more in a month than the Dres Van accords have taught me in an entire lifetime."

Her lips quivered ethereally, her cavatina ghostly. "Like what?"

"Love." He replied, "It may sound unoriginal, but it's the truth. I've never considered love…necessary, but from you, it's all I've ever wanted, and all that I'll ever want. I know it's futile to say these things now, but I cannot bear with the prospect of not being able to see you every morning, or not being able to talk to you, to hold your hand…"

"You've never been only a princess to me, you've always been much, much more." he inched closer, his amethyst eyes opaque, leaving her profusely flushed cheeks very much unnoticed.

"May I kiss you?" he tenderly enquired, "To commemorate your brief but memorable life here at Dres Van-"

"No." There were furious flames in her irises as she brusquely backed away from him, a primordial anger evident in her whitened knuckles and firmly pressed, lusciously red lips.

"No, you may not kiss me," she repeated, "In fact, who would even ask that?"

"Uh, I was trying to be a gentleman." He said, confusion conquering the plethora of emotions battling inside his head.

"Oh," she sang, rather cruelly, "Don't try to be something you're not. The act is practically see through."

_What was the matter with her?_ He watched as she wrathfully paced back and forth, her breasts bouncing as she went – had she gotten slightly plumper over the past two weeks? Perhaps it was his imagination playing with him, but it did appear that she had gotten rounder…in certain places-

"Joshua," she said, stopping dead in her tracks. "I need to ask you something, and I want you to answer me with the utmost honesty."

He blinked in surprised, then nodded. "As you wish."

"You're pushing me away because you think that this is what I want, correct?" She raised the papers she held in the air, her eyes of despairing glimmer.

_Where was she getting at? _"But is it not what you-"

"Answer me!" she demanded, and he held his arms up in defeat.

"Yes!" he bellowed, agitation clear in his fiercely knitted brows. "Isn't that what you want?"

She took a deep breath, relaxing her pale shoulders. This time, her voice was calmer, unruffled.

"It's what I _wanted._" Then, in unprecedented madness, and by the testimony of the stars, God, and prince Joshua himself, Stephanie tossed the papers insensibly into the fires, her chest panting as its ochre flames engulfed her key to liberty.

Joshua had been frozen in his stance. Everything was dark, and quiet – so irrevocably quite that he could hear his fireplace crackle, the incensed stirring of his heart, and the heat, the heat that in resonated down his walls, mirroring the scorching hotness that swam his veins, burned his mind and numbed his fingertips. _She had said she __**wanted**_**, **so does that mean, that right there, right now, in the confines of his bedroom, amidst the imbroglio of wilting roses and deafening tempests that she truly, truly,

"Joshua," she breathed, once again defeating the distance between them, "Tell me, what do you see when you look at me? Do you see a weak little girl who's satisfied with having everything about her life planned out for her, or do you see a real princess who's perfectly capable of making her own decisions?"

_That was an easy one, _"You'll always be a child to me-'

She cut him off, "This is why I didn't fall for you right off the bat, Joshua. You don't think I'm trustworthy, at least not enough to depend upon." She pointed a sharp nail on his chest, directly through the fabrics of his sweater, "So stop assuming. Stop assuming that I want to leave this kingdom. Stop assuming that I hate you, because the truth is, I don't. You've given me enough time, and enough reason to realize that at the end of the day, you're a genuinely responsible prince."

"This afternoon, when I said that I'd do anything, anything you'd ask, I was already certain that I'd stay for you. Do you have any idea how disappointed I was when you nary said a word-"

"Wait," he gripped her by the shoulders, unaware that his fingers were on the verge of hurting her, "When you said 'I didn't fall for you right off the bat', are you implying-"

The fact that she interrupted him with a kiss was beyond his wildest dreams. The feeling of her lips were incredibly dulcet, and within him awaked a prominent, unbearable lust, one that he meticulously supressed for the past couple weeks before she so daringly announced her invitation. He could very much feel his resolve slipping away, with such rapidity that it nearly tipped him over with ecstasy; however, just when he was about to show her _precisely what monstrosity he had been holding back, _she audaciously released him.

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm implying," she whispered, her cheeks very much heated, "I'm in love with you, Joshua. Back at Nerwan castle, every minute of every day was the same redundant story – rebellions, hateful citizens and a fruitless search for my brother. After meeting you, after being dragged here to Dres Van, things…have been different. I know this sounds incredibly cheesy," she chuckled to herself, "But I've never felt more alive."

The nature of her words was powerful enough to distract him from his desire. He couldn't believe it, and permitted a few seconds to escape before reconciling with what she said.

His relief, his joy, everything, was ineffable. His heart soaring, he abruptly embraced her, tightly encircling her waist with his arms. This time, she hugged him back, her palms smoothly patting his back as she rested her head on his shoulder, all the while smothering him with the enchanting aroma of Nerwan's national flower.

He nuzzled his face within her abundant curls, eliciting from her a string of girlish giggles.

"Does this mean that you'll stay with me?" he mused, his voice incredulous.

She nodded endearingly, and her chin sluggishly grazed the collar of his shirt. "Yes. I'll stay with you, for as long as you'd want me. And even if you forced me out of the country, I'd still put you in a jar and take you along."

_That was…cute._

His grip on her body tightened, adamant on encompassing every single part of his princess. However in the next moment, she appeared to have recalled something imperative, for she backtracked from his hold and stared, earnest ambers boring into gratified amethysts.

"And for the record," she added, "Next time, if you're going to kiss me, just do it. Asking completely ruins the mood, don't you agree- mmph!"

Truth be told, Joshua's mind hadn't processed anything beyond 'kiss me'. His brash conscience discounting whatever came next, he had already crushed his mouth on hers, and taking advantage of her surprise inserted his tongue brutally between her lips, exuberant on relishing in every single corner of her. He had missed the feeling – their heated skins, mingling breaths and felicitously joined bodies. He had always prided himself in the department of self-restraint, his ability to withstand particularly favored food, wine or anything appealing that caught his eye. Becoming one obsessed with sexual liaisons was, when the recipient is a stranger, very much despicable; however, when in chambers with his wife, it was just another form of showcasing his undying love.

He was amazed, that when sober just exactly how one's senses sharpened to such lucidity. Everything became more apparent – her plush breasts pressed firmly against his chest, every mouth-watering curve of her back, waist and bottom as he touched them slowly in succession, savoring the girl, _no, _woman who was his, in every conceivable definition. He could hear, hear the elated moans she formed, but was unable to truly escape when he captured her lips unrelentingly in his own, sucking and licking her tongue in a frenzied, almost _dangerously inappropriate _fashion. Then again, that tantalizing dress of hers…

He lost himself, in what, he no longer knew. All he was capable of doing was raid her lips with a primordial, innate instinct that seemed so natural, and before he consciously registered what was going on, he already had her pinned beneath him, her hair a feverous hurricane that bloomed violently upon his carpets. _Oops. _

"Stephanie," he relinquished her, and laughed when her chest huffed theatrically, her blood-red lipstick smudged in a rather unctuous appearance. "When you said that you'd grant me any wish, were you telling the truth?"

"Yes," she said, in between her vehement pants, "I meant every word of it, but I'm still waiting for a reply here."

"I have just the thing," he smiled mischievously,

She inclined her head, "Oh really? What is it?"

He leaned closer, close enough that he could nibble on her ear, wash his tongue over her sensitive lobes and allow her to quiver for a couple seconds. He then whispered, his breath unusually hot against her skin;

"I want an _heir._"

"What?!" she shrieked, her expression the utter paragon of bewilderment. "You want children?! Where did this come from?"

He shrugged, but not before his hand traversed to the shoulder of her gown, and determined with glee its elastic makings. "I've always envied Altaria's national soccer league, and children are just much simpler to train. Besides," with a pretense of idleness, he pulled the velvet off her arms, causing her to squeal, humiliated when he revealed her breasts, which were, very much unreserved of a lacy brasserie.

"Besides," he continued, and in an unforeseen motion flicked his tongue over her peak, hardening it almost instantly. She tasted like soap…cinnamon soap, more accurately speaking – were there even such things as flavored soaps? That was perhaps the last thing on Joshua's mind as he descended his other hand to her right breast, and fondled, while his mouth administered rigorous attacks to her left. She moaned his name, arching her back to him as he persisted in his sweet torment, his masculinity now pressed against the ground, eager to enter her core and pump her into oblivion.

"Besides," he said between continuous, arduous suckles, "Consider the effects of a pregnancy between the Nerwan Princess and Dres Van's Crown Prince. It would effectively neutralize whatever's left of Nerwan's discontent, and," he nipped at her collarbone, blossoming an bold array of markings, making her squirm all the while, "It would also facilitate my ascendance to the throne, as well as secure your position as the future queen of Dres Van. Three birds, one stone."

"Hm…ah!" she turned her head in shame when Joshua ripped the bodice of her dress, with such callousness that it became disorderly shreds within his fingers. There was only a second that escaped before he removed everything except her panties. However, another diabolic plan had interwoven his mind as he began to taunt at the flesh of her hipbones, his teeth bestowing small, dainty bites, entailing just enough pain to perspire her skin.

"L-let me t-think about it!" she cried, tears brimming her eyes from overwhelming pleasure. Much to her consternation, her answer wasn't even nearly enough to satisfy the deprived prince, as he had, before he undid the straps of her heels pulled down the silk of her undergarments, his fingers almost immediately treating her dampened entrance.

"Think about it?" he growled, already vehemently stroking her insides, provoking her clit with such force, that her resultant scream nearly shattered his eardrums. "You said you'd grant me any wish, had you not?"

Thankfully, they were close enough to his fireplace to guarantee warmth – but hell, beneath the fires, her gorgeously creamy skin became tinted with a faint shade of gold, making her more of an artistic, genius pastiche of stars and suns, her vivacity shunning him. This time, she was his, both mind and body, heart and soul, his. His to love, to cherish, for there were countless sights he wished to share with her, a thousand locations across the earth he longed to take her; however, right there and then, none of his promises of chivalry mattered.

_For all he wanted to do was fuck her senseless._

Her first implosion came and went, and in between her breathlessness he had thrown all his clothes off, his member protruding in its enlarged hardness, his foreskin stretched, almost painful by his arousal. Her eyes half-opened, but widened instantaneously when he hovered himself between her legs. Then, as if deciding otherwise, he grabbed her ankles and hauled them over his shoulders, so that he partially adjourned her back in the air, sustaining her weight only by her upper body. This position, he recalled, during one of those dreary, not to mention immeasurably awkward sessions, conducted by his father on the arts of child conception, dictated that he could reduce the displacement between his seed and her womb…

"I'll think about it…" she said, winded.

"Think about it?" he shook his head, "You won't have time to think."

"Why?" she asked, to which Joshua couldn't conclude was either due to her inexperience in the matter, or stemmed from a tease, perhaps one directed at his performance.

_Either way, he didn't hesitate as he violated her in one vicious blow,_ welcoming her reverberating scream to awaken ever cell in his body from their deadening slumber.

"Because," he snarled between thrusts, his brows joining as his tempo increased, slamming himself almost vindictively, but definitely maddeningly into her core. His pace was ravenous, unyielding as he ravished her body, beleaguering her with such mind-blowing pleasure that her consciousness began to fade…he ascended, _ascended, _no longer bound by her chasteness and unrequited love, but was now, in his own sense, free. Free to love her in any way imaginable, with limitless, boundless passions that might perhaps, soon sire an heir. They would have a miniature version of themselves, a talisman of luck, a token, a symbol of hope not only for the imminent peace of his kingdom, but also for the security _of their home._

"Well, what do you think we're doing right now?_" _he said, moments before he groaned into his release, his cum lapsing maliciously into her flooding tissues.

**Chapter XV**

He had lost count of how many times they made love that night.

At first, he had fouled her on his carpet, but soon grew agitated when their unruly ravishing had rendered the lush Persian furs marred with wetness. They had laughed it off, her breasts marked with continuous hickeys, her lips swollen and words breathless. Much to Joshua's astonishment, he couldn't, not for one moment keep his hands off her, and even when they attempted a _serious _discussion had he continued to assault her body.

There had been this one instant, when they were leaning against his champagne walls, far from the fireplace to eschew its scorching flames. Stephanie had informed him of her proficiency in the harp, but alike every other sentence that escaped her that night, her speech was incoherent, amalgamated with breathless moans and equally evocative screams. He recalled having her seated across his lap, her back to his chest – so that without her noticing, he could surreptitiously reach out and fondle her breasts, her core. She had thrown her head back on his shoulder, her ochre curls dampened by the persistent unions of their bodies, and with the increased frequency of her voice did his member rapidly inspissate. He progressed to kiss her neck, biting slowly enough, just enough for her eyes to roll back into her head. As his fingers tweaked her nipples, desultorily and sensually for them to harden, he palmed her breasts in a circular motion, his gentle massage a splendid duality with his _sadistic _bites_. _Her fingers had trembled, her pants reverberating through every last corner of his grand bedroom as he skillfully exhausted every last cell in her body.

"O-oh g-god! J-joshua!" she screamed as he gluttonously licked her exposed earlobes, one of his hands already tending to her engorged clitoris.

"P-please! P-please!" she begged, her back no longer sustaining her weight. "I-I need-"

"What?" he growled, suggestively pressing his protruding masculinity against the small of her back, "What do you want, Stephanie?"

"I-I…Ah!" her statement was cut short when Joshua plunged three fingers into her entrance, deploying just enough strength in his languorous strokes to maximize pleasure. Her entire body shook, her luscious lips open in a wide O, moments before Joshua mercilessly grabbed her chin and consumed her very breath.

He danced his tongue with hers, sucking, smothering the foundations of life out of her. That was his exclusive form of vengeance, of conveying what she impudently deprived him over the past two weeks – and now that she so compliantly obeyed his wrath, he sure as hell was going to enjoy every single moment of it. He could feel her lashes glide across his cheek, dispensing a ticklish sensation as they went; but it wasn't until her strength had completely vanished did he relinquish her lips, a triumphant smile adorning his breathless features.

"You never answered," he said as he inserted another finger inside her, eliciting from her a vigorous tremble, "What do you want?"

"I…" she breathed, unable to continue. Agitated by her indecision, the pumping motion of his arm became a magnificent accelerando, the sound of her splashing juices drowned out by her maddened moans, quivering fingers and opaque amber irises. Her breasts bounced, and with intemperate hunger, he washed his tongue ceaselessly over her peaks, lapping her mounds with just enough _sting _to send her over the edge.

"Tell me," he commanded amidst his dulcet torment, "What do you want from me?"

"You!" she shrieked in synchronization of his fingers hooking her g-spot, "Joshua! P-please!"

Just as she was about to implode in sweet, sweet ecstasy, he abruptly retrieved his every touch from her body. She relaxed her shoulders against him, a slight look of relief enlightening her porcelain skin – save for her profoundly flushed cheeks, which exhibited with abundant persuasion the conflating shame and unsated passions she fostered inside her chest. Unfortunately for the Nerwan Princess, the jejunely infatuated Dres Vaninan prince had not nearly acquired satisfaction from her. Thus, before she could adequately catch her breath, he had already suspended her upper body and hauled her forward, rearranging her limbs so that her wobbling arms and bent knees sustained her weight.

_Doggy-style, was it? _He drifted over her, taunting impishly the tip of his member against her entrance, savoring the endearing fashion in which her thighs moved closer together, as if trying to preserve the last fragments of her purity…

_It's a little late for that. _Obtaining a firm hold on her lissome waist, he thrust himself into her, his foreskin at once meeting the very end of her core. She threw her head back, facilitating the echo of her euphoric voice, the sound so bewitching, so mesmerizing, that Joshua wished nothing more than to kiss her, to capture those moans of hers, so that they were only his to hear. However, their current position _also_ dictated that she would experience his full length, assimilating pain and pleasure into one rhapsodic rhythm that would inevitably _rock her world_.

Prince Joshua knew nothing of gentleness, especially when his mind was nebulously obscured with insatiable desire. The tempo in which he voraciously slammed into her was borderline ruinous, the sharp impact of their slapping skins so lucid, but at the same time so enthralling that it was very much negligible. She was glorious – the way her eyes had shut in ecstasy, how she would with bated breath sing his name, her lips made plumper, more deliciously esculent with every growing second…He had felt him expand inside her hugging insides, her moistures expediting his increasing thrusts until finally, he released himself inside her, feeling the wetness of his seed pierce her expiration as she too finished. Her hands had immediately gave out, prompting her to fall, front forward to the ground, her brilliant amber eyes deprived of vitality, of any sort of discernable strength.

Pulling himself out of her, he suddenly felt incredibly hollow, as if he had been separated into two moieties, two inexplicable pieces that established Joshua Lieben. He possessed but one of the two, while the other remained inside his princess, sirening him to encroach upon her once more; however, sensing that she was truly depleted of energy, he adoringly grinned at her fatigued expression.

"Stephanie," he held out a tentative hand, his amethyst irises eager, "Are you alright?"

It had taken a couple extra seconds for her to regain her composure. "Yeah," she replied, dislodged of any scintilla of power. "I'm fine…I think."

She had slowly taken his hand, and in a futile endeavor tried to pull herself up, her efforts unsuccessful. Chuckling amusingly to himself, Joshua extricated her from her position by a quick flinch of muscle, which, astonishingly to them both resulted in her collapsing against his chest, her lips in tantalizing proximity to his own.

"_Well_," she breathed, her eyes not yet able to waver from his mouth, "_This is awkward. You should probably get me go," _

"_Awkward?" _he repeated, incredulous, _"After what we just did, multiple times over the past hour, do you really think that this, is still awkward?"_

The blush upon her cheeks became immediately more potent, "It's really unbecoming to speak of such things, especially since you're a prince and all…"

He scoffed, then, deciding to admonish her, he planted a tender line of kisses down her neck – which would, under other circumstances prove very much harmless. However, her skin had been so redundantly encrypted with markings, that, even the simplest caress would stimulate a vibrant response. Which she did, in that wanton soprano of hers unyieldingly moan her desires, her enraptured voice so infectious, that Joshua could feel himself grow once more…

From the corner of his gaze, he saw that his cum had been dripping down her thighs, marring her skin with the maleficent evidence of their lust. Another devious entwining his mind, Joshua had lifted her up in a princess carry, and before she could successfully voice her remonstration, he had sealed her with another blood-boiling, mind-numbing kiss that forestalled another outstanding episode of heavenly bliss.

Without permitting her to breathe, he strode in elongated steps to the marble interiors of his washroom. Until that moment, Joshua had never really appreciated the luxurious bath space he encompassed, for when he had been imperturbable, he found its ostentatiousness very much unnecessary. However, when he held his princess so felicitously in his arms, he couldn't thank his parents enough for installing his enormous bathtub.

It had been pre-filled with steaming hot water, for before she had miraculously confessed, he had desired to 'blow of some steam', as the commoners referred to the act of emancipating one's anguish. Another aspect of Prince Joshua Lieben was his obsessive love of hygiene, as he had, in the absence of political theatrics and official duties always indulged in showering, in the crystalline beads that would glide across his skin, replenishing his every nerve into a realm of peace and calmness. He would implore the alternative of genuinely bathing; however, the concept of submerging himself completely in water proved slightly…effeminate, for his tastes. Despite that, Joshua knew as a matter of definite fact, that out of all the princes of the six kingdoms, he had in his possession the greatest array of cleaning products.

As his feet met the now temperate waters, he finally released her lips, and laughed heartily when her audible breathing traversed into his ears. Her cheeks were flushed to the point of viable crimson – the were so red, that for a second there, he feared that she'd faint due to overwhelming pleasure. However, his trepidations were effortlessly nullified as his gaze wandered over her bare skin, her long, elegant limbs, and alas, his dried seed glued shamelessly to her shapely legs…

_Hm. Looks like he wasn't done with her. Not quite yet. _

Surely the snarl in his throat convinced her of his enduring lust, for when he lowered her in the water, he hadn't treated himself to a second of lassitude as he descended his hand to her core, massaging sluggishly, torturously her clit. She enflamed beneath his touch, arching her neck back, her skin so inviting that Joshua couldn't help but nibble at her shoulders once more…

"_Stephanie," _he commanded, his fingers soliciting her inner walls. Unlike her, who had been floating senselessly upon the surface, the lower portion of his body was inundated in water. Hissing under his breath, he brusquely spread her legs apart.

"Extend your arms upwards and hold on to the tiles." He watched as she slowly raised her wrists, her expression slightly dubious, but nevertheless compliant. When her fingers were secured in position, he nodded to himself before violating her exposed entrance, this time in such bone-crunching _leisure _that her arms had trembled, debilitated her widespread legs and exasperated her moans, ones made hollow, throaty and weak. His hips deliberately ached towards her, and just when his tip encountered her end drew back, in a malicious adagio that brought iridescent tears to her eyes…This time, he didn't hurry, for he was resolute on savoring every last inch of her.

"Oh, oh-god Joshua!" she pleaded, her expression desperate, "P-please, don't do this to me!"

_Like that was going to happen. _Deciding to agitate her further, Prince Joshua proceeded to lick the plane of her stomach – its every mouth-watering surface, the panoply of umbrageous penumbras cast by her breasts against her ribcage…her songs became more breathless, more _mindless _by the second, her blatant vulnerability only prompting him to spread wider his plague. Every time his tongue had met his skin, a jolt of indescribable electricity shot through his veins, igniting his being in an imperishable, celestial flame that disbursed his entire existence. A part of him acknowledged his addiction – to her body, her scent, the embrace of her core against his member, all of it spellbound him, irretrievably, irrepressibly to her. Now, that she was finally his wife…no. That was irrelevant. All that he should, and would concentrate on was bringing her pleasure, and there was not a force prominent in the world that would sidetrack him from his objective.

His fingers dispersed to her clit, rubbing sensually as his hips continued their torment, his member hardening by the accompaniment of her frequenting breath. She looked absolutely superb, the way her curls spilled across the water, as if a lotus flower illuminated with fire, its dauntlessness, its audacity, its _vivaciousness _alike something out of an impressionistic painting. The sight was moderately artistic, and if Prince Joshua indeed had the talent to portray his thoughts with a brush and paint, he would definitely draw her, in this exact pose, chronicling her every curve beautifully on canvas. He smirked to the thought, and closed his eyes as his insertions increased in power, meeting her drenched walls with heightened intensity, causing her to squirm, helplessly torn between her yearning for more and desire to maintain balance. If, she was daring enough to abandon her hold, she would drown, creating a graver predicament than she had currently found herself in.

"Hm…" he mused in between mouthfuls of her flesh, "You know, I can do this all day." Then, to tantalize her further, he withdrew himself completely from inside her, only to penetrate her with unprecedented savagery, her core engulfing him, fully and completely-

"J-Joshua!" she screamed as he beleaguered her breasts, "P-please! I c-can't take it anymore!"

"What?" he tilted his head in her direction, "What do you mean?"

His movements, all of them froze when he witnessed in awe the seriousness of her expression, the adroit acumen returning in her clear gaze. He didn't immediately decipher this rather strange conversion, in fact, he thought that he offended her, and just before he wished to comfort her, she said, in such a serene voice that derailed him completely-

"Joshua." her every word was elucidated with daunting clarity, "I'm your wife. You don't need to hold back."

_Hold…back? _He blinked, rather mystified by her stateme-

_Oh. Shades of had pink flooded his cheeks. _

_That's what she meant. _

He planted one last kiss upon her lips.

"You asked for it," he said.

This time, her cry quaked his bones, his floors, and perhaps resonated through every last corner of his manse as he thumped against her, slamming her with an unparalleled force that astounded even himself. He had halted his provocations on the other parts of her body, but instead concentrated on hammering her senseless, on delivering an exploited pleasure that would immobilize her for days to come. With his every entrance, the water between their forms danced, in petite, gracious waves that stroked their already amplified senses, ones that thundered his heart and simultaneously drained her of moans. He could feel his member grow, to the verge of pain as he penetrated her, repeatedly, obstinately, causing the plane of her stomach to, with his every plunge bulge upwards, as if he wasn't just pervading her entrance, but also her womb, brimming his seed to their designation even before their convulsions…

This time, perhaps due to her rather difficult pose, he had commissioned her release before he had even known it, until he felt the violent vibrations of her inner walls fiddling his masculinity. As her eyes rolled back in her head, she had dropped her arms flaccidly in the water, to which Joshua bent forward and cradled her against his chest, the last vestige of movement enabling his own finale. With mingling breaths and vague expressions, their lips had met, in choreographed perfection, each desperately beseeching the other…

"We should," he said between kisses, "Sleep."

"Why?" she looked at him with large doe-eyes. "But I'm not tired."

"Neither am I," he laughed into her mouth, "However, unless you want to undergo another passionate episode, I suggest you get dressed and remove yourself from the vicinity."

Recognition twinkling inside her amber irises, she immediately detangled herself from his arms, and in staggering steps climbed out of his tub. Truth be told, from the moment their skins detached, there was this loneliness that overcame him, one that wrenched his soul, and had burdened his heart with such gravity, that it probably mirrored an obsolete antique of some sort. He watched as she wrapped a bathrobe across her skin, the cotton ruffles of which clasping her lithe waist, revealing only her long legs, outstretched in scrumptious miles beneath…

"Stephanie, you're sleeping in my bed tonight." That was the last thing he had said to her, that is, before she had turned back with a mischievous wink and an equally _carnal_ smile.

"Why, _and I was afraid you'd never ask._"

When he had climbed underneath his velvet covers, she had already drifted into a deep slumber, her breathing a steady allegro that in an ethereal cadence shifted the blankets above her. Her sleeping form, much like every other side he had seen of her fascinated him – perhaps it was the silver moonlight glistening against her snow-like skin, or the maroon undertones of her lips, still bloated by their incessant, rapacious kissing that night… she was _exquisite_. There was no other way to describe her.

Only when he was sure she was asleep did he admit to himself, just how pained he had been over the last couple weeks. Her stubbornness had challenged him, challenged his pride, his esteem, even the very beliefs of being a benevolent dictator. The latter...to a lesser extent, perhaps.

Joshua Lieben. That was, and is his name. He was twenty-four years of age, with violet hair and eyes in the same dull propinquity. He was the Crown Prince of Dres Van kingdom, a lonesome prince who reverenced in his solitude, for he had never been graced the company of those whom he truly loved. Save for his steward, Jan, perhaps. Though, once one would dip into those waters, our entire story complicates, and thus, in essence of preserving the purity of our love-epic, I shall reserve that tale for another time.

The prince was, well, wildly regarded as handsome. Not as conventionally beautiful like fair-haired Prince Wilfred, no. Hell, the man was practically Apollo in desuetude, with gossamers of molten gold and eyes of the deepest of blue, alike a tranquil ocean underneath starlight. Nor was he ruggedly enticing like Prince Keith, who, despite his inferior age coalesced a dangerous disposition, with his sharply chiselled features and forest-emerald irises. The man was the paragon of an elf, that is, if elves were incredibly well-fit.

Joshua was more…it's rather difficult to formulate into words. First of all, the concept of purple hair was peculiar, to be unreservingly honest. For those that could look past the rarity of the incident, they would discover exactly how well-defined every angle of his features, resplendent with something alike dazed granite, or pale, smooth stone of the finest polish. While many found the color of his hair a curse, their attentions would inevitably turn to his eyes, for their shades were surely a gift. Legends state, that those with purple eyes were crafted with the best of hearts – ones filled with justice, abnegation and amity. Though, for those that lacked interest in myth, they would with similar interest discover disgust in his amethyst irises, which was, in its own sense odd. Prince Edward Levancois too comprised of the same colored eyes, but somehow, just somehow, they worked on him.

There had been, historical accounts of the Lieben men gifted with his particular shade, but objectively speaking, they were all appalling beasts, in both the dimensions of physical appearance and political aspirations. Fortunately for the kingdom, they were all distant of the throne; however, their existence imbued Dres Van with the constant fear of treason, fear that one day, the royal family would perish alongside their ineptitude.

That fear had been vanquished by Prince Joshua's grandfather, who by all denotations of the word, widely considered a malevolent tyrant. By all means, he was dashingly handsome, much like Prince Joshua in that department – but he was also ruthless, heartless, and so Machiavellian that the rules of utilitarianism no longer applied to his actions. More simply put, he was a psychopath. Nothing was sacred to the psychopath, not even the cries of his wife when he had cold-bloodedly murdered her, on that fated winter night three score and two years ago.

Amidst all the horrible things he had done, the most atrocious was perhaps jeopardize to unamendable means, Dres Van's relation with Nerwan. The two neighboring countries had always been tense, but lacked the spark that would crackle a detonation of war, which Joshua's grandfather had found particularly irritating. So, to aggravate the situation, he had through malicious manipulation, originated the greatest battle between Nerwan and Dres Van history had ever known. The war gone on for years. Thousands had fallen underneath the rain of bullets and toxic gas; however, despite their valiant sacrifices, the war between the two nations had sought no conclusion. It was at last, resolved with a decade long truce, which, was merely euphemism for replenishing their forces before engaging in another war. However, during this time, grandfather Lieben was, by overwhelming public dissent removed from power, thus obliging Joshua's father, at the mere age of seventeen to succeed the throne. He, on the other hand was a pacifist that contained no genius. He didn't rescue Dres Van's state with Nerwan, nor did he truly contribute anything grate for the well-being of his kingdom. He was good looking, and that was pretty much it.

Just as the flame of the 81nd royal generation dulled, a greater power must rise anew. Joshua Lieben, with his acute intelligence and silver tongue was very much the cynosure of the country, now more than ever after joining hands with the Nerwan Princess.

…

He traced his thumb over her cheek, an affectionate look hovering within his eyes. For years, he had fretted over the dilemma of Nerwan, of Leonardo, of not being able to exceed the anticipation of his people. After enduring countless nights of unrest, Joshua had almost given up…he couldn't count, how many times he had considered abandoning his kingdom, perhaps shipping himself to Advaboole, where nobody would be able to find him, not to judge him…

"Hey," she whispered, turning to him with lethargic eyes, "You're back."

He didn't answer. Instead, he reached out and gently enveloped her shoulders, breathing in the fresh redolence of winter wisteria that permeated her curls. She shuffled within his arms, but didn't budge, as she obediently permitted him to delight in her softness.

It was ridiculous, unfair, almost, how lucky Prince Joshua had been in ascertaining a bride. Not only was she an exotic beauty, but her very existence emolliated the turbulence between the two disputing kingdoms without the slightest of controversy. Just like that, she entered his world, bringing with her love, peace, prosperity, light, everything that Joshua had ever wanted, and shall, from that moment till eternity, ever want from life.

"You know," he breathed into her ear, causing her to smile to the ticklish sensation, "I think we're perfect for one another."

"Oh really?" she looked at him with her clear gaze of candor. "And why is that?"

"Hard to say. It's a feeling, that we go together just like day and night."

She scoffed in mock horror, "You mean never being able to see each other, and always ending up at opposite ends of the earth?"

"No," he laughed, looking lovingly into her eyes, "I mean, we fit together inexplicably beyond relief, just like…" he stopped halfway,

She tilted her head of the side, "just like – mmph!"

She had spoken no more, for his lips had instantly imprisoned hers, ravenously drinking in her intoxicating aroma as he played his with tongue. While the prince occupied her with his artful mouth, his hands had peregrinated to her waist, and ever so lightly tugged against the knot of her robe, until her bare white body once again fully came into view.

This time, he didn't permit her to make even the slightest noise, for he readily gobbled every last sound emanated from her lips. He could hear the rapid cacophony of her heart beneath his body, one that mystically mirrored his own in strength and in measure.

This time, he softly eased himself into her, his member sliding smoothly, gently into her entrance, the friction of his tip against her tissue indefinitely awakening her lulled senses. Her breath had ragged when he pushed up her breasts, every last fiber of her rationale shattered when his masculinity touched her end, met teasingly the tender spot that shuddered her legs around his waist…

It wasn't until his second thrust did he discharge from her lips.

"Just like this. We fit like two pieces of a puzzle." He said, at once commending his reptilian pounding into her sex.

Unadulterated bliss was, in itself, unnerving.

As the morning lights filtered through his window, Joshua grunted into the depths of his pillow, not yet ready to welcome the glory of dawn. It was mostly his own fault, granted, for the strenuous coupling they had engaged in last night would possibly constrain him for days, if not weeks to come.

He couldn't recall such an extreme muscle ache, not since he was twelve and challenged not only to learn, but to excel at tennis in but a week. He had been taunted by none other than Prince Keith Alford, who at the time two years inferior his age was already imposing in height and agility. Laughing the younger boy off, Joshua had obsessively practiced for the next five days, sacrificing all his other studies in perfecting this one particular skill. By the sixth twilight, he was simply so drained of vitality that he couldn't, not for the life of him move another limb. This was somewhat like that, yes; however, in this case, if Joshua was presented the choice of replaying the events that morning, he would select the positive without a second's hesitation. Well, not entirely, for he had entirely different procession he longed to experiment – different poses, positions, locations…

"Hmm…" she hummed to herself, and fluttered her lashes absently, signally her awakening. Even though the sun hadn't yet made its full ascendance, Joshua could nevertheless see, through the lulled candesence the patterns upon her skin, their daring crimsons marring her impeccable white body. Not that he minded, for being able to ruffle her perfect feathers was, in a sense, a confirmation of her love.

"Good morning," he murmured, tracing a line of airy kisses down the plane of her shoulder, "I trust you've had a sleepless night."

She rolled her eyes, "Yeah. Thank you for that, by the way. I don't think I've felt this tired since…" a giggle escaped her when Joshua softly kissed the nape of her neck, "Actually, I've never felt this tired. Not in my entire life."

"Hm." He turned her over, and pressed another series of kisses upon her eyelids, ears, cheeks – everywhere, save for her lips. Good lord, the things this woman was doing to him… "That's just another thing to get used to as my wife."

"Wha – mmph!" If Princess Stephanie received a penny for every time he had interrupted her speech with his mouth, just in the last twelve hours alone, she would probably accumulate enough wealth to renew her entire winter wardrobe. Not that she was complaining, in any sense, for Joshua was a glorious kisser.

As delicate rays of gold shone through his window, Prince Joshua once again hovered over her, pinning her wrists above her head and separating her legs with his own. She closed her eyes, just in time for him to plunge himself inside of her, their kiss drowning out her exalted moan before it was made audible. Prompted by the light morning breeze, he proceeded to surmount her – but this time, it wasn't about release anymore. With his hypnotic rhythm, he wished to convey to her just exactly how much he treasured her, the immense importance of her light within his life. His fingers fondled her clit, and under the dichotomy of stimulations she started to shake, her trembles frequenting as they both met their end, his warm seed covering her insides, causing her to gasp in shame.

Her small squirming noises when he touched her, brought forth in Joshua something caliginous, something animalistic and primordial, something almost…morbid. For once, he envied the immortals, those with endless time to savor in everything they could conceivably desire from life – if he was granted with such greatness, he would never, for a second stop indulging in her body. Not for a single moment.

Without removing his member from her, he planted one last kiss on her moistened lips. "I plan to have at least eleven kids. Seven boys and four girls-"

"Wait. Why are we discussing this now?" she raised her brow, "It's way too soon, don't you think-"

"No." he blandly replied, "It's not early. In fact, if you calculate how many times we made love last night, it's very possible that I might have impregnated you already. Better make preparations now than later."

She inhaled deeply, flabbergasted. "What happened to being a gentleman?"

"It was an act," he shrugged, an impish smile emerging across his features. "It is your place to acknowledge that, since you will likely not receive a wink of sleep for until the date of your conception."

"Wow, have I just yielded to a monster?" she rolled her eyes in defeat. Despite her harsh words, a detectable ghost of a smile flashed across her lips, one of amusement, of…satisfaction? He could have misinterpreted things. Though, probably not.

"That's irrelevant," he said with a deadpan voice, causing her to laugh out loud.

"But," he combed his fingers through her hair, his expression warm.

"I have something to show you."

Begrudgingly did he detangle himself from her, releasing himself from her sensitive folds with a pop, the sound of which eliciting flushed cheeks and roaring hearts on both their parts. He was suddenly aware, that he was fully unclothed, not to mention bathed in sunlight that made his every muscle visible. He could feel her eyes on him, and with a furrow of his brows, he grabbed his bathrobe off the foot of his bed and wrapped it ferociously across his waist.

"Hmm…" he had no idea why she was humming.

Before she could utter another word, Joshua scurried over to his desk drawer, and from its mahogany depths retrieved a small velvet box, lined with ribbons of silver and shimmering rubies, appearing chatoyant, but in an appealing fashion. The item it contained had belonged to her – his mother, his grandmother, every crown princess and queen of his royal house. It was, alike the Lieben emblem, a symbol of their social strata, but more importantly, it was an amulet of luck. Something that would guarantee them, form the day they would encircle their finger, a lifetime of happiness.

Gathering his breath, Joshua returned to her side, not quite able to return her curious amber gaze. He figured, that as her lawfully wedded, and bedded husband, he at least owed her a _proper _proposal.

"Is that what I think it is?" she asked, her voice uncertain.

Readily dismantling her enquiry, he slowly opened the box, revealing in its depths a foudroyant diamond, one immaculately cut into the finest polish. Underneath the morning sun, it gathered light, bestowing upon itself a divine incandescence, as if crafted by the hands of God himself.

"Stephanie." The resolve in his amethyst eyes were, even by the analysis of the most imaginatively impoverished was as clear as daylight. With his spare hand, Joshua took hers, intertwining in the most intimate fashion their fingers.

"I don't know what tomorrow will bring, be it the relations between Dres Van and Nerwan, or anything else," he breathed, hoping his racing pulse wouldn't betray his calmness, "but for the first time in a very long time, I no longer care. I feel that all is right, as long as you're here with me."

_God, that was not what he had intended to say. Simple was best, right?_

"So," he retrieved the ring from its case, and held it out to her with an expectant, almost childish expression.

"Will you marry me?"

He held his breath. He had conducted numerous thought experiments of this exact moment – he had to admit, it had happened much more smoothly inside his head. He scrutinised with care her features, and his heart had dropped, nearly a million feet when she stared right back at him, her eyes vacant, their glimmers motionless.

That is, moments before a smile of unalloyed brilliance upcurved her rosy lips.

"I no longer have a choice, do I?" she said, retrieving the ring from his fingers and sliding it on her finger.

She held her hands up in the sun, her gaze of admiration serene as Helios' rays deflected off its elegant surface.

"Besides. This ring has been mine since the day of our wedding, has it not?" she said, before sealing his response with another blood-boiling kiss.

**Chapter XVI**

"Jan."

Prince Joshua drummed his fingers across his pale velveteen tablecloths, discontent etched into every single crease in his forehead as he glared at his steward, threatening to burn a hole through his insolent body.

If there was one thing that would shatter his newly discovered, idyllic bliss, it would be the excessive conversation between his princess and butler. The latter was as impeccable as always – balancing a bottle of crystalline wine in one hand while skilfully serving her another dish. Perhaps, this particular ability of his was practiced via his talent in playing the cello, but the abraded prince couldn't be sure. His irritation, not to mention malicious envy was far too domineering for him to decipher the otherwise, objectified veracity of the sight before him.

He had never thought himself truly capable of jealousy, or hate, or anything far on the ends of the emotional spectrum. Anything vibrant, anything extravagant with zeal, he readily avoided, for it hindered his better judgement on matters of true imperativeness. Everything, the hustling events that would flash before his eyes, the banters of the common folk underneath the formerly grey Dres Vaninan skies, theme parks, theatres, oratorios – all of them held to him no appeal. They were… background noises, in a pastoral landscape depicted of watercolors, colors that would fade, evaporate as time went on, as soundlessly, as invisible as they came. He reverenced in his stability, for he considered the nervously psychotic deplorable. Peace, as the prince believed stemmed from intelligence, a subtle injection of meritocracy that neutralizes the ingresses of the dull and dreary into the chambers of politics.

Intelligence. Tranquil, steadfast intelligence had been his goal. However, all he could assemble as he watched Jan ebulliently chat up his Princess, was the desire to relieve him of his post, once and for all. Perhaps even insensibly banishing him from the castle grounds, or shipping him off to Altaria, where Prince Roberto would surely unravel his talents in music, and possibly employ him as a jester or-

"Jan." Joshua's ears burned as she said _his_ name, her enthralling soprano echoing ceaselessly through the tapestried grandeur of his dining hall. It almost felt…as if she had betrayed him, for those lips of hers, those exact lips he devoured countless times during the past couple days were enunciating _his _name, and so heartily at that.

"How long do you suppose the press conference should be?" she asked, her voice laced with uncertainty. Much to Joshua's dismay, his butler smoothened her wariness by pouring her another serving of wine, his hands steady as the crimson liquid brimmed her glass. Before Joshua could amply rearrange his thoughts, she had already gulped down the entirety of its contents, pale red penumbras surfacing on her porcelain cheeks.

"Personally, Your Highness, I wouldn't suggest it be too long." He said, meeting her concerned gaze with calm wisterian eyes, "Especially since it shall be conducted on Christmas day, the citizens would not be too thrilled if we occupy too much of their time."

_The prince gritted his teeth. Was it really necessary to ask Jan his opinion? If anything, Joshua was far more experienced in the matters of press conferences, while Jan was contented with standing back and waving to his audience. _

"I see. Thank you." she nodded, her ochre curls bouncing animatedly upon her shoulder. That morning, she was stylishly clad in another one of her maroon gowns, with their ostentatious trails of velvet and pearled linings. Though what differentiated that particular gown from the others was its snug collars, stemming just to the nape of her neck in ruffles, as opposed to her usual lower, more _tantalizing _preference. He couldn't help but feel a surge of triumph in his heart – for he knew of her drawbacks, of the audacious marks he bestowed upon her skins, the ones she so desperately wished to conceal from the public, or Jan's eyes, in this case.

"Anytime, Your Highness." Jan inclined his head in a practiced bow. "If there is anything further you'd like to discuss, please don't hesitate to seek me."

_Seek? _Joshua hissed underneath his breath. _Seriously? That was at the height of impropriety for a lowly steward to speak of such a word, especially when the recipient of one of royal standing…_

Ah. The press conference. So, after a month had expired after their wedding ceremony, the joyous mentality of the Nerwans had diminished, its absence reviving the dissent they previously exhibited. Although to a lesser extent, they nonetheless resumed their rebellions along the eastern borders – initiating wildfires, riots and some alleged terrorist movements, that prince knew as a fact were mere empty threats than anything otherwise. In an attempt to emolliate their anger, the Nerwanese Princess had volunteered herself to hold a press conference, directly in Dres Van's capital on the dawn of Christmas. Taken with surface value, it was a wish of happy holidays from their Crown princess; however, on a deeper, more diplomatically inclined stratum, she was to command the Nerwan citizens, who would be without doubt glued to their television screens, to settle their conflicts. There was a faint, but nevertheless prominent threat to be implied within her missive – the royal families of Nerwan and Dres Van, are now a melange of supreme power to be reckoned with. Any attempt to challenge its authority, would be ultimately rendered futile underneath its imperial army, especially since, in Leonardo's absence, the military seal of Nerwan fell within Stephanie's hands.

At first, his princess had objected to the idea, for she considered such acrimonious message unfitting of Christmas spirit. Only after…Joshua's rather devious methods of persuasion did she _breathlessly _consent, something she regretted immensely the next morning. Though, the more she thought upon the subject, the more she unearthed within it a remarkable genius. Their people would not suspect anything of alternative meaning, if she were to speak on Christmas day rather than any less festive morning. She would attain maximum public recognition, and through that shun the Nerwans from further agitating Dres Van's monarchy.

Another topic they had sustained in vigorous colloquy was Nerwan's future. Although the eastern country retained its name, it was still, by every definable mean a colony underneath the Dres Vaninan flag. Stephanie was very much proposing to liberalize Nerwan into an independent nation, and Joshua agreed, just not quite yet. Nerwan's economy remained far too fragile for reconstruction – he demanded that they increase equalization, which in turn decreases poverty rates, and focus on replenishing the destroyed agricultural lands by war. None of those things would concession, though, at least not before the impudent Nerwans would actually accept his assistance.

After weeks of research, Prince Joshua had ascertained the motive behind the revolts. Contrary to his long-held beliefs, it wasn't an entire region, nor an entire city that ignited their discontent, but instead a certain section of incessantly nationalistic civilians, those who fostered undying hope in Leonardo's…less than eloquent policies. There had been posters, broadcasts and underground meetings, all directed towards the same objective – they wish for Prince Leonardo to repossess the throne of Nerwan. They believe that Leonardo paralleled a god in acumen, that the Lieben family were no better than the devil himself; which were indeed ironic, considering that they were affected by the Nerwan prince's horrendous programmes, just as much as everyone else. Through the Nerwan parliament, Joshua had already dispensed warnings to their 'leader', a man who was famously known across the lands for his brilliance and kindness, something that, when the prince received his reply, proved very much controversial. Not once did he address the prince with respect, but instead foul mouthed him for three quarters of the letter, in the most vulgar diction imaginable. The Dres Vanian prince had supressed the desire to abandon his response in the fire.

Finally, despite all odds, this _leader _of men did disclose some valuable information. They believed that Nerwan's independence was something worth preserving, that the repression of their people by Dres Van was despicable. Refusing to separate the two nations, he had threatened, would subject the entire kingdom to potentialities of battle, of widespread rebellions that are impervious to the imperial armies. For, without the heart of the people, the title of 'royalty' encompasses no meaning.

_Then who is left of your monarchy? _He had written, _If you are fortunate enough to succeed, who shall be your king?_

_ Our Queen_, he had written back, _Shall be her Highness Stephanie. _

…

The words of Prince Wilfred struck a chord of rusted antiquity regarding this predicament. Publically expressing her alliance and love with the Dres Vaninan Crown Prince can either vanquish their irrational hopes completely, corroborating with Prince Joshua's hypothesis. Or, they'll construe it as a blow to their egos, as stated by the golden haired prince, and respond with retaliatory regression that might not only harm the rest of Nerwan, but the innocents of Dres Van.

Prince Keith, during one of their tedious summits at Nobel Michael, had unreservedly recommended arresting them all, considering that they were but a small percentage of the overall population. While he was grinning victoriously, not to mention foolishly at himself for his 'ingenious' suggestion, Prince Edward had softly responded, in the most considerate, most innocuous manner achievable.

_"But Prince Keith", he had said, "It's rather troublesome for Prince Joshua to imprison thirty percent of the Nerwan population, is it not?"_

The Libertian Prince was effectively silenced, and had slumped into the leather of his seat with a furious blush and equally ferocious eyes.

That's right. Thirty percent. The difficult number – not nearly imposing enough for Joshua to initiate any deriving plan, but also not adequately insignificant for him disregard the issue completely. He couldn't declare war, for he had the vast majority of Nerwan complying with his orders; but he couldn't just intimidate them into obedience either, nor eliminate them, for that matter, since Nerwan was, after all, a rather large nation. As their disturbances grew, the mere thirty percent augmented into forty, but was stultified greatly by the gleeful effects of his marriage with their princess. The numbers had taken an optimistic turn, reducing to fifteen within the first week…however, after another twenty days of inactivity from the Royal family, the numbers rekindled to twenty five, gravely chafing the amethyst haired Prince.

_The pressure. The hope of creating his, her, their kingdom anew was burned exclusively on Princess Stephanie's elfin shoulders. _Which, was, a relatively comprehendible justification to her anxiety.

There was…well, one other alternative to hosting a press conference. He had implored Jan with the idea, but was turned down with his hard pressed lips, right before he burst into brazen laughter that brought him to his knees in an instant. Joshua had no idea that Jan could be so…simply impolite, for he thought his own strategy was one of pure brilliance:

_If. They were to announce Princess Stephanie's pregnancy to their respective kingdoms, then would it not abolish any further remonstrations that would come their way? One would expect the Nerwans to become hopeless, especially since the Princess' child is half Dres Vanian blood. _Although, that would indicate many, _many _sleepless nights on his part – which was, when stripped of all social complications and the overwhelming obdurateness of his pride, something he definitely looked forward to.

After being rejected by Jan, he had inquired her with the same scheme. Fortunately, this time, he was received with a more welcoming rejoinder – her demure blush was surely a sight to behold, especially when she was so gloriously unclothed beneath the moonlight. However, after, in very literal definition of the word _impropered_ her upon every feasible opportunity, he discovered in dismay that she progressed to evade him, that is, at least during the day.

Which, inevitably ties our narrative back to this morning, when Jan had persisted in his exchange with Joshua's beloved Princess.

"Jan." The Prince had said once more, this time more vindictive, sterner, than his previous attempts. With Jan's acute intelligence, there's no doubt that he'd understand Joshua's heart, perhaps with a gracious bow before he'd retire to the manor corridors.

"Yes, Your Highness?" he blinked, replete with an innocence that really…shouldn't belong in this world.

"Do you not have somewhere to be?" he whispered, a defeated crease forming between his fierce brows. Prince Roberto, on one occasion had rather impertinently enquired why Prince Joshua constantly appeared as if he had 'just eaten a frog'. He was likely referring why he archetypally wore this dangerous look, which, Prince Joshua at once assembled, frightening the Altarian prince, causing him to rampage down the halls, until he had been tripped over by some anonymous entity, forming on the marble grounds an odd arch-shape with his back.

That rather ineffable incident had happened in Nobel Michael, during the Lord's very own birthday reception.

"I think not, Your Highness. Christmas approaches us in but two days. Most of your political duties are press conferences, whereas I have nothing to do other than assist you before the public." He smiled, his pearlescent teeth glimmering diabolically, mocking the prince's forlorn spirit. His princess, on the other had raised a dubious brow at him, silently imploring why he suddenly underwent a change of tone.

Atypical of a Dres Vanian winter, the sun had endured for, actually, until that very morning. What appeared to be a boundless cloud of fog embellished the clear skylines – as if a massive cloud, or, if one were of a particularly romantic heart, the lands of heaven had made its grandiloquent descent towards the human realm in celebration of the monumental birth of Christ. According to, well, Jan, this was a sure sign that within the next day or so, they would welcome a thick blanket of snow, obscuring most of the Dres Vaninan landscape into a state of immobility.

"Jan," he said once more, eager to dismiss his indelicate butler, "Go alert the maids. They are now free to decorate my bedroom."

There was blatant bewilderment in his eyes as Jan replied, "Your Highness, are you sure?"

_Anything to remove you from her side. _"Yes, I am certain." His voice was impassive, as impassive can ever be.

To his misfortune, his Princess also cast his side a doubtful glance. "Really, because just last night you were complaining about how 'colorful' the manse had become. Not to mention how much electricity we're wasting in lighting all these Christmas lights."

_And, just last night, she was far too preoccupied with accepting his unyielding hammerings to talk back to him. _Ignoring her statement with a flip of his front bangs, Joshua gave Jan an expectant look, prompting a knowing smile to glide across his butler's features.

"Very well, Your Highness." He bowed, his body ethereally trembling with laughter, much to Prince Joshua's irritation. "I hope you have a good day."

Prince Joshua wrinkled his nose as Jan vanished through the exit, the luxuriant trail of his earth-shaded tailcoat fluttering flaccidly behind his bodice. He let out a relieved breath, his tightened eyebrows relaxing when the door closed, enclosing him and his princess in a space of their own, free of disturbances.

"You know, you could be nicer to him." she admonished, a beaten glimmer within her amber irises. She had absolutely no idea, what her careless remark had just ignited in her husband – the hunger, the contempt, the irrepressible envy that he had so meticulously masked, all of it.

"Why did you ask him that?" he said, his eyes scintillating with threat.

She inclined her head, perplexed. "Ask him what?"

"About the press conference." Joshua cast down his gaze, unaware of how much he resembled a child as he pouted at his dish. His food remained untouched, almost taking on that repugnant hardness that he so passionately despised. This time, he didn't care.

"Ah," she mused. Then came her fleeting chuckle, "Hah. You caught me. I guess I'm more sensitive than I give myself credit for. It's frightening, Joshua, speaking in front of all those people, who might, after all, discriminate against me because I'm the princess of Nerwan."

He blinked. _She was…worried? _"You've never told me that you felt that way, Stephanie."

She shrugged, not meeting his stare; however, despite her attempt to elude his attention, her profuse blush was nonetheless apparent, like blandeloquent roses blooming underneath her creamy complexion. "Well, it's for the best, since you're always busy, so I figured I shouldn't burden you with anything I'm feeling at the moment. Besides, I'm just feeling a little stage fright, it'll pass eventually."

That was…considerate of her. A surge of emotion overcame Joshua's heart, warming his body with something _magical, indescribable. _He loved her more – he didn't think it was possible, but somehow, it was.

"Thank you." He said, smiling at her beautiful form, "Thank you, for thinking of me. But Stephanie." He outstretched his arm across the table, tightly grasping her lithe fingers in his. "I'm your husband. It's my duty to help you in a time of need."

A pregnant second lapsed between the two before she too smiled, the pure vivacity of her smile mesmerizing the prince. "Got it. I'll come to you the next time I'm feeling uncertain about something."

"But." Recalling something, she smirked impishly at him, "Let me guess. You were jealous of Jan just a couple seconds ago, were you not?"

…

The currents of time had frozen into materials permanent, immovable, eternal. It was then, right when an awkward silence permeated the dining room atmosphere, when the first drop of incandescent snow made its graceful descent from the skies. Then, as if prompted by the courage of its pioneer, several more danced across the celestials, across the ominous skylines and down upon the lifeless greenery of his kingdom. The skies at once lost their colors, but were instead gravitated with a shade of transparent white – as if one of those mystical snow kingdoms, where the children could architect igloos, and effervescently glide down niveous hills as if they were roller-coasters. A potent wind had picked up, shifting the snow to the west, their roars batting against their window, as if indignant of the warm isolation inside the grander manor.

"Wow," she stole a glance outside, "It seems like the snow's arriving earlier than Jan had expected."

_That – what she had just said pretty much shattered Joshua's resolve. _As she brought another glass of wine to her lips, Joshua, in a moment of madness blurted out the most juvenile, and perhaps the most irrevocably stupid statement he had said in his entire life.

"Stephanie. Are you in love with Jan?" he demanded, his voice dripping of feigned nonchalance, conflated with quivering wrath that under other circumstances would have rendered comical.

Which was why, when she had sprayed her mouthful of wine in his face, he immediately shot up from his seat, all his bubbling displeasure now manifesting upon his expression. He had not yet enough time to register the apologetic look on her docile features when he shot up from his seat, a rather…hilariously wrathful contortion emerging across his brows.

"What the hell was that for?!" he bellowed, his anger aggravated when she laughed, her entire body quaking with the force of her merriment. Her firey curls brisking, she didn't even notice when her wine senselessly spilled across her gown, nor when Joshua had strode angrily over to her,

"I'm sorry," she peeked up at him, "What you said, it was just so unexpected that I couldn't help myself."

Then, in a more serious tone of voice, she said, "No. I'm not in love with Jan, and I never will be. I thought…I thought our previous nights were enough to persuade you of that already…"

…

He couldn't believe she had said that. He had assumed that her chasteness would prevent her from disclosing anything even remotely related to their…_evening activities. _The fact that she had said those words with such nonchalance, as if they were the most natural thing in the entire world... Slowly and sensually did his anger evaporate, his tempestuous eyes calmer, less menacing as he spoke,

"Next time," he knelt down beside her feet, "If you require any sort of assistance, come to _me, _alright?"

His emphasis on introjection was so endearingly obvious that the Nerwan Princess smiled. "And what would you do if I don't?"

_Oh? _He cast her a challenging look, only to be countered by her equally firm resolution. Impelled by his desire for victory, Joshua tilted her chin upwards with his fingers, a misty, opaque look overcoming his clear purple irises,

"I believe that a change of clothes is in order," he traced his thumb over her cheek, "Do you require any assistance?"

She abruptly pushed him away, but not before he could see her exasperated smile. "I'm not that incompetent, but thank you…I think."

"That wasn't a question." He leaned closer, his hot breath washing mercilessly over his face, "That was a command-"

Stephanie hissed underneath her breath, "Don't even think about it."

She darted out the door before he could make any further arrangements.

"Stephanie?" he called through her door, "Are you in there?"

Now, Joshua wasn't one affluent in effeminate matters, such as changing from one gown to another, or the intricacies of applying layers of foundation over others. It didn't particularly make sense to him, how she had wasted an entire afternoon, just to step inside another dress.

Ever since the dawn of the 20th century, women have been liberated from the tedious ties of corsets and garters, which inevitably attributed to their increased exposure of bare skin. At least, that was what Joshua had always believed. For a brief, dark time during history, men who strived for ultimate aestheticism had also employed corsets, underneath their tailcoats and cravats; however, considering the anatomical structure of men differed from women, especially in the waist area, their efforts were ultimately deemed ineffectual. Of course, there was also the alternative of exercising for balance, but for the constantly lethargic, alcohol addicted folk, corsets seemed like the right way to go.

"Stephanie?" he said once more, this time louder. There really wasn't a necessity of notifying her before making an entrance, considering the doors within the manor had not been locked since Joshua could personally remember. Even though Jan, in his attempt to impose some order, had collected a large ring of master keys for every chamber, they lacked purpose, and were, as we speak, rotting in the storage room. By all means, Joshua could just barge in. In fact, even if she had not finished changing, he could even help her – that is, _after_ he gets his way with her.

"Stephanie? Are you inside?" he knocked, thrice on the polished wood of her door frame. Her silence had persisted for a while now, and by then had grown worrisome. Unless she had been intentionally ignoring him, then there, with argument was something wrong with her…

"I'm coming in."

He had barely peeked into her room when he felt her weight slam against the door, accompanied by her consternated voice,

"Don't come in!" her voice was stern, allowing no space for argument.

"Why?" his curiosity had gotten the better of him, so much so that he completely disregarded her ominous tone.

"Because." He could hear her loaded inhale, "I'd rather you not see me right now. It's far too humiliating-"

"What?" _why did it matter? He had practically seen every single part of her already._

"Just don't come in- Hey!"

Joshua brusquely brushed inside. Despite her impressive strength, she was still no match for the prince, who in muscle volume and built was almost twice her size-

His heart stopped. There she was, with an embarrassed glimmer in her eyes, biting hard on her luscious lips whilst simultaneously fiddling her fingers over her stomach. Usually, just the simple visage of her decorous manners would have aroused him, but right there, right then, he was rendered irrevocably, undeniably speechless.

"I-I, this wasn't my idea!" she shrieked desperately. "This was completely Jan's perpetration! He sent all my gowns out for cleaning, so I ended up with nothing my size, except this to wear!" As if to emphasize her point, she lifted the ruffled hem of her skirt and held it in the air, her eyes iridescent, brimming with tears.

He gulped as he affixed his stare, with unwavering concentration on her bodice. Joshua had always had a prominent preference towards the color black, for he believed it to retain the conservativeness expected of his regal bearings, and at the same time prevented any sort of unwanted attention from the flamboyancy of…say, crimson. Although red suited his princess, if he was presented the opportunity to select the pieces of her wardrobe, he would definitely have chosen them all black – it would outline her slim figure, accentuate her every defined curve…black, was a medium between mediocrity and stateliness, its reverence well earned, well deserved.

However, even in his wildest fantasies, Joshua hadn't considered finding her…in the uniform of one of his staff. He had always regarded their clothing dull, banal, but somehow on his princess, it brought out within her an untamed radiance, an irresistible, _carnal _light that watered his mouth. Striving to mute the sound of his rapid breathing, he slowly moved towards her, the danger in his eyes not yet apparent to her apprehensive heart.

"Ugh," she shook her head, her curls bouncing against her shoulders, "Why, it seems like my worst nightmare has finally come true."

"Your worst nightmare?" He reached out to stroke her cheek, his eyes traversing to the ribbon below her collars…_The quintessential key to his plan, he thought with glee._

"Yeah. I mean, where on earth would you find a princess who's shameless enough to-"

She didn't continue, she couldn't continue when he sealed her lips with a kiss, at once invading her mouth with the prevailing force of his tongue. Immediately did her chest start to huff, partially due to her shortened breath, but also because Prince Joshua had commenced to fondle her breasts, his fingers periodically tracing over her nipples and grazing ephemerally her collars.

Her insides suddenly felt incredibly, wantonly hot – it was shameful, almost, what she'd permit him to do to her, repeatedly and without order. How she longed for his caresses, her archenemy, her husband, her Joshua Lieben; the very thought of him pinning her on her bed, his chest bare, surmounting her over and over as he lapped his tongue against hers, his fingers massaging her exposed curves… she could feel her core dampening, just by the dual sensation of his lips and touch, now traversing to her bottom, lifting and dispersing her thighs so she situated upon his waist, her legs crossed behind his back.

"Hmm…" Joshua drew back, and through moistened lips undid the knot of her collar, smiling victoriously to himself as he discovered just how study the material was. Before she had the time to question his doings, he reached towards her hands, and with her tie, ribbon, or whatever it was commonly referred as, secured her wrists behind his neck.

"That should prove sufficient." He said as he reached towards her skirt, uplifted its short fabrics, unearthing the lascivious black lace of her undergarments. Upon realizing the intent of his gaze, her cheeks reddened, her lips forming a trembling grimace that propelled Joshua to ignite another passionate kiss, one that melted her mind into a puddle of the most indiscernible nature. Though, even through her blurred conscience, she felt his protruding masculinity press against her entrance, his head teasing her already dampened folds mischievously, flinching her legs…

_If only…_

Abruptly without warning, he released his hold on her bottom and instead pressed her against the wall, his eyes filled with hunger.

"Place your hands over your neck," he instructed, to which she gladly complied.

Little did she know how much he wanted her, every, single, part of her to capitulate to his desires and demands. There was a primordial, untamed passion that soared through his veins, bringing his face slower to hers as his sensuous gaze washed over her cleavage, now visible through her unbuttoned blouse…

"Joshua…" her voice was weak. Joshua grinned impishly in response to the moiety of pale red that adorned her features. The final diminishing fragments of his logic convinced him not to lose control; however, his monstrous masculinity that pressed against his trousers, commanded him, with the utmost urgency to pump her until she was ridden of consciousness.

"Don't move." With enough authority in his voice, he brought his mouth in promiscuous proximity to her ear, his breath scorching hot against her sensitive lobes…

"You know, Stephanie." He whispered, "You really shouldn't have worn that dress."

She didn't have the time to enquire why before a yelp escaped her lips, the culprit of which Joshua's desutorial licks on the curvature of her ear. However, despite her obvious discomfort, she didn't have the heart to push him away, for the sight of her glorious husband so craven with desire for her, made her heart pound with such potency that she feared she may faint. He placed his hand on the impeccable skin of her waist, now revealed by the uplift of her arms…

"Don't make a sound." Stephanie watched in horror as Joshua slowly slid open the door, and positioned the frame so that they remained concealed in its shade. It was fairly exhibitionistic, the idea of being constrained to soundlessness – it brought inside her a surge of adrenaline, of something foreign and magnificent that sang as Joshua crushed his mouth on hers. Taking advantage of her surprised relapse, he inserted his tongue into her, and tasted with intoxicated senses the remnants of honey that lingered in her corners. With his frenzied tempo, he swirled her into a waltz that shuddered her body, her arms, her legs…she could hear footsteps, coming and going outside their walls, close enough to hear her exalted screams, moans, the suggesting sounds of their joining skins…

_But she didn't care, for she no longer had the heart to._

Sensing her weakness, Joshua reached out to grasp a fistful of her hair, and yanked her head back to better accommodate the descent of his lips to her neck. He savored, every last gasp that escaped her as he nipped her skin, blossoming marking after marking upon her creamy bareness. With his other hand, he explored underneath her blouse, sensing with glee her lissome body tremble, especially when his fingers discovered that she wasn't wearing a brasserie... he tersely pinched her left nipple, causing her moans to increase in intensity and frequency, their audibilities perilously evident through the open airs…

Deciding to provoke her further, he ripped her blouse off her body, sending the small metal buttons flying in scattered directions across her room.

"Joshua!" her eyes widened in astonishment, "What are you doing?"

"Do you not realize?" he hissed, his fingers reaching underneath her skirt. She squirmed when he discovered her sweet spot between her thighs, the excitement in her features augmenting as he taunted her wet core.

"It's not in your place to disobey me, especially when you're dressed like that." Deciding against speaking, for it would inevitably attract attention, Joshua secured her lips within another lips while his hands tended to the hook on her skirt, the flimsy material dropping floppily to the ground. When he removed her panties, all the while biting harshly into the flesh of her thighs, she no longer remonstrated. Instead, she closed her eyes in ecstasy, the sheer exhilaration of their activities at hand overpowering her everything…

Her heart thundered as Joshua's dark gaze washed over her naked body, every part of her that she would, without doubt surrender to him. Whatever the consequences of their dalliance may bring, be it infamy or anything else, could be dealt with later.

Quickly forsaking his shirt, Joshua once again collided their mouths, gluttonously consuming her breath, her integrity, the very bane of her existence as he pressed himself against her naked figure. He could feel her breasts spilling languidly against the firm muscles of his chest, to which his fingers quickly tended to their swollen mounds, rubbing just hard enough to buckle her knees against the wall…

Abandoning gentleness, he released her lips, his mouth hopping to her collarbones, dispensing as many hickeys as possible, their impudent red markings testifying their passions. The air around them practically dripped with sexual chemistry, one that solidified when he realized in blithering awe, her hands reaching towards the buttons of his trousers…

There was challenge in her eyes. Requiring no further persuasion, Joshua dismantled the remainders of his clothing in maddening speed, and chuckled to himself when her cheeks flushed furiously, followed by a sharp turn of her head. Wishing to entice her further, he trailed the tip of his now visible member against her moistened entrance, delighting in the way she would shudder uncontrollably…

"Joshua, ple-" he couldn't comprehend how addictive her lips were. He couldn't tell if it was due to the influence of her maid uniform in particular, or of her exotic beauty, but he just didn't, couldn't stop kissing her. Placing her wrists behind his neck, he slowly eased himself into her, his dissembling mouth muffling her scream. Although she couldn't make even the slightest sound, her deluging pleasure was nevertheless ostensible, when his tip touched touch her most sensitive spot by her curling toes and quaking legs.

His eyes were closed, so he couldn't have noticed when her eyes widened as he started to move, in powerful, unyieldingly strong thrusts inside her. She was so deliciously tight as he pumped her, quicker and quicker, her splashing juices dampening his skin, blinding his rationale. Their skins had heated, and while Joshua held her in place with one arm, his other hand traced to her clit, massaging in a sluggish, voracious motion...

He could feel her control slip from her body as his rhythm accelerated to a pace that perspired his forehead. Her trembles became violent alongside the vehement perfection of his hammerings, his member slamming hysterically against her insides, her womb…she couldn't think, couldn't breathe as he dirtied her senseless upon the pale walls. The feeling of him inside her tissues was inconceivable, especially in that location, that position, and those dangerous circumstances that would expose them even upon the slightest invocation. Her body was powerless against his unremitting thrusts, and her core burned, burned as she arched her back forwards, wanting more, more…

Just when she hovered over the edge of insanity, the emergence of a pair of familiar footsteps halted Joshua's movements. From the corner of his eye, he saw Jan's shadow, in its perfect composure stopped directly at the corner of her room entrance, his expression suspicious.

"Is someone there?" he asked. Joshua had pressed her in a manner so that the wall supported her entire weight. With that, his devilish fingers fiddled her most vulnerable folds, his dulcet innuendo so tortuous that her eyes rolled to the back of her skull.

"Your Highness, is that you?" Jan came closer. His tongue dived deeper as he further tormented her, now with the supplement of his slowly shifting hips, in and out, in and out of her entrance, pulling morbidly her walls with unutterable felicity. Her chest huffed, and her breathing became more ragged, only to be drowned out by Joshua's lips…

_No, please, stop,_ she solicited with her mind, but Joshua didn't yield. Instead, his attention relocated to Jan's sudden entrance, his body separated from their joined ones by a mere wooden door…his tempo frequented, now claiming her faster and fully, his masculinity slamming ruthlessly her end. The duality of his member and tongue occupying both her openings was so overwhelming that Stephanie's vision clouded, her mind no longer capable of protest...

Joshua's anxiety was relieved when Jan sighed to himself. "Perhaps I'm growing too suspicious of late." He said, amusement interlacing his voice as he walked away from her room.

…

His ravenous penetrations, had, upon Jan's disappearance, resumed their intensity. Joshua threw his restraint into an endless void as he finally renounced her mouth, and laughed heartily when she inhaled heavily, her cheeks redder than he had ever seen them. Her insides were pulsing, her fissions of pleasure quaking her spine, her passion even more apparent in the wallowing of her juices enveloping his member. This time, it was he who felt his control slither away, his previous declarations, promises of courteousness dissipating as he pounded with such potent fierceness, that his violet bangs whipped painfully against his chiselled features. Finally did her moans reverberate through the space of her bedroom, her voice shrill, so _rapacious _that he was sure that someone had deducted their doings, but he didn't care. He couldn't care, for every cell in his slumbering body had awakened in a majestic accelerando, his every nerve undeniably _alive_ as his seed erupted inside her.

Her release came, just as eminent as his. Feeling all the strength leave his body, Joshua hugged her against his chest and slipped lifelessly to the ground, his exudated hair no longer possessing any shape, not at all. There was a silence, a serenity that permeated between the two. It was that kind exchange of bliss that neither them dared to interrupt with speech.

If one was to pinpoint blame, then they would have to condemn her uniform. Or Jan, her ignorant supplier.

Before she regained her balance, Joshua's palm reached upon her thigh, and tenderly did he cup her creamy flesh…

"Wait," she warned, "You're not thinking of…"

"Hm." Her trailed his touch up her side until he had reached her breast, pinching lightly her swollen nipple. "That's exactly what I'm thinking.

She writhed underneath his play, "But after that, I don't think I can…"

Her objection had been futile as Joshua picked her up, effortlessly in his arms and strode towards her bed. Laying her down gently within her plush covers, he hooked the confinements of her wrists through the mental intricacies of her bed frame, that is, before he spread widely her legs and once again slid himself inside her, completely disregarding her breathless blush…

"Don't scream, princess." he said as he restarted his vigorous plunges.

"_In case you haven't noticed, I've left the door open."_

**Chapter XVII**

The morning of Christmas welcomed a very much unexpected visitor.

Now, the Philipean tradition held customs in high regards. Contrary to that of the Liebens, who believed in the stringency of rules and tradition, the Spencers were more utilitarian when it came to culture. Ideals that would benefit the most people while creating the least hassle, especially, were their favorite. So, while Dres Van had remained relatively constant in national philosophies over the past couple centuries, the kingdom of Philip had in itself, gradually evolved to adapt to international pop trends, along with the emergence of technological advances and, to a lesser extent, global warming.

Amongst all things, the Philipeans respected those who wield fine etiquette. It was no surprise that their civilians worshipped the royal family, especially since they were gifted with not only extraordinary breedings, but also beauty that outshone those of the Olympian Gods. Along with epitomizing the greatest order of their nation, the Spencers were also their idols, and every year, particularly during the winter holidays, it was _customary _for the Philipean press to enter their castle, to spend a broadcasted Christmas with His and Her Highness, as well as their two equally renowned sons, Prince Wilfred and Prince Stephen.

However, this year, the kingdom of Philip greeted the absence of their very own Crown prince, for before the break of dawn, he had, with his accomplice Claude travelled into Dres Van manor. When he had arrived, the snowstorm of the previous day had diminished to but a flurry, much to the Prince's convenience, for during their entire car ride there, he had fretted over whether or not he'd be able to acquire a parking space.

His first meeting with Prince Joshua had been at eight a.m. that morning, or more specifically, in Joshua's dining room. Prince Wilfred had always found the interior of Dres Van manor fascinating – Chateau Philip was redundantly decorated with pale tones of blue, the color mirroring the translucent shade of his sapphire irises, a trait ceaselessly passed through his family. To unaccustomed bystanders, the pristine shade may appear appealing, _beautiful, _even; however, for Prince Wilfred, after subjected to twenty-five years of its imprisonment, it had already become a nuisance. That's why he preferred Prince Joshua's taste in décor. It wasn't too ostentatious, like the flamboyant crimsons adorning Liberty manse, nor too overly depressing, like the etiolate greys of Oriens castle. It was…refreshing, in its insipid beige and subtle golds; _Of gentle majesty and modest pride, _as Shakespeare had put it.

Prince Wilfred had been seated, absently at their table, his attention peculiarly glued to the pot of flowers centered upon the dining table. It didn't immediately occur to him that they were composed of plastic, and so, he had exhausted a good half-hour before finally realizing their lifeless quality. He chuckled to himself, for he had pondered why that, despite the emptiness of its transparent vase, how the flowers remained so vivacious, so replete with undying vitality.

Jan and Claude had been huddled in a corner, discussing rather animatedly over something very much uninteresting. They were of a remarkable contrast – The Dres Vaninan High Steward exemplified pure light, while his own butler was slightly demonic, to be fairly honest. Wilfred knew, perhaps better than anyone that he was well-intentioned; however, if he had a choice to enhance certain fractions of Claude's personality, he could very likely filter his impulsivity, overprotectiveness, and perhaps add just a teaspoon of kindness to brighten his perpetual solemnity.

His thoughts had been interrupted by a string of merry laughter: an enthralling, enchanting soprano that immediately illuminated his world. Wilfred recalled, with absolute lucidity the owner of that voice – her amber eyes, constantly scintillating as if they were on fire; her equally vibrant hair that cascaded down her back in luxurious curls, and finally, her heart. As the Crown Prince of Philip, he knew of many well-born ladies, who were eloquent and dauntless in speech, but pityingly possessed insensate hearts of steel, thus rendering everything that escaped their scrupulously red lips phony and unctuous. Princess Stephanie, on the other hand, was different. Now only did she know how to effectively debate, she conveyed the exact messages of her mind, without adulterating or smoothing over potentially inappropriate phrases, that is, assuming that her thoughts challenged the boundaries of propriety. Unlikely.

The last time Wilfred had seen her, she had been apprehensive over her marriage with Prince Joshua. Political factors tainted the sanctity of their union, and at an aspirational age of nineteen, she was in the process of venting her worries when her husband intruded on their conversation. Prince Wilfred had instantly deduced that he had been jealous of their closeness – he didn't blame him, for if he had wedded such an exotic, impeccable beauty, he would very likely lock her in his room, day and night without allowing her to obtain even the most fugacious moment of sleep.

When she first appeared through the door, Wilfred's heart had sang, his mind elated with perhaps, the verbal proficiency of Prince Edward Levancois. However, his spirits were irrevocably crushed when Prince Joshua entered just seconds later, and right before his eyes pressed a kiss to her mouth, his expression one of tenderness, of adoration, something that Wilfred had never before, not until that very day, witnessed.

So, just like that, Prince Wilfred's motive for arriving at Dres Van manor was shattered beyond repair.

"Prince Wilfred," she sang, her elated expression bringing in Joshua's heart another surge of envy. "It's a pleasure to have you here at Dres Van Manor."

Joshua didn't miss the appraising look Wilfred cast his princess. It was of…conflating admiration, agony, both of which transitioned to his signature ambiguity within the next couple seconds. It wasn't until a faint smile upcurved his English mouth did he finally reveal some sense of emotion, "It's wonderful to see you, Princess Stephanie."

"To what honor do we owe your presence, Prince Wilfred?" Stephanie's delicate brow raised when Joshua possessively enveloped her waist, his concentrated amethyst eyes not daring to leave Prince Wilfred's side. "If I recall correctly, your entire kingdom is anticipating their exclusive view of their royal family, are they not?"

Even the dullest of minds could detect the hostility within Joshua's voice; however, fortunately for the amethyst haired prince, Prince Wilfred was no Prince Keith, and thus was unlikely of igniting a feverous argument within their dining room.

"Personally I find the presence of the press slightly suffocating. Besides," Wilfred stole a glance outside the window, "Besides, the Dres Vaninan snow this year is said to be spectacular, which is also precisely what brings me here to your manse."

"That's odd," Joshua remarked blandly, "That sounds like something Prince Roberto would say."

He narrowed his brows when Prince Wilfred chuckled. _In the name of Holy Nobel Michael. _Even though his relationship with his princess was adequately stable to fend off any potential threats, the appearance of the Philipean prince still agitated him, especially since his eyes were transfixed on Stephanie since her entrance. Could one really so blatantly obvious, and at the same time, so shamelessly so?

"Prince Roberto shall arrive in the evening, after he finishes directing the holiday festivals of Altaria. And, if my memory does not fail me, so shall Princess Catherine Alford, who's very excited to see her Highness Stephanie again." To Joshua's dismay, Stephanie's face suddenly gained this look of exaltation, as if she was just graced with the greatest news in the world. Now, it wasn't her affixation with the Libertian Princess that chafed him, no, but it was the fact that Prince Wilfred's words had so effortlessly elicited from her a smile, and such a radiant one at that.

"Catherine's coming?" she detangled from Joshua's arms and scurried towards Wilfred's side. "That's great news. I don't think I've seen her for three years now, and our correspondence had been cut off because of the Civil War…"

"Really?" Prince Wilfred replied with mock horror, "That's quite a long time. It's very possible she's forgotten you already, Princess Stephanie."

The image of Prince Wilfred playfully bantering with his princess dispensed Joshua a peculiar sense foreignism – as if, he was separated from the two of them by some nameless looking glass. He retained his senses, his feelings, his memories, it was just that... he wasn't a part of them, nor a part of her. As if to aggravate his excruciation, the Philipean Prince paired quite impeccably with his princess: her ochre curls were in harmony with his brilliant gold, and her amber eyes pretty against his deep sapphire. He couldn't help but feel as the two conversed, that_ they _belonged together, more so than the two of them could ever persuade with gravity.

"Joshua," she turned back, her irises shining, "Is it alright if Wilfred accompanies us to the press conference?"

That put him in a difficult position, one that artistically prompted him to only reply in the affirmative, that is, unless he'd rather suffer public humiliation, and perhaps the label of miserable, stingy, something along those lines. While Stephanie's expression was earnest, Prince Wilfred's remained impassive; however, upon careful scrutiny, Prince Joshua discovered with distaste that his lips were brushed with a triumphant smirk, one that faintly but pointedly derided Joshua's ineptitude.

He gritted his teeth. "Very well then. We depart at ten for the inner-city plaza. Make yourselves presentable by then. That goes for the both of you."

Joshua could feel four perplexed gazes daggering his chest – was it something he had said that brought a forth their reactions? Or was it his specific fashion of translating his thoughts? Stephanie appeared bewildered at his words, while Wilfred so impudently supressed the urge to laugh, his gaze permeated with amusement as he struggled to keep his mouth shut. The drawing line had been Claude, whose features contorted so menacingly that Jan, very literally had hauled him away from within the Prince's perception…

Hissing under his breath, Prince Joshua darted into the concealments of his manor corridors, before he could further humiliate himself.

The capital plaza had always been hustling with spirit, but on Christmas day, it was borderline chaotic.

Thousands, perhaps even millions of people crowded along the streets and sidewalks. Due to desperate allocations of space, transit, ranging for a four mile radius had been completely stopped to accommodate the press conference. Just yesterday, an impenetrable layer of ice had coated the grounds. That very morning, their remains had been crushed, fragmented by the countless pairs of snow-boots that trampled their surfaces. Although the skies were clearer, the snow persisted, this time in a lighter, more beautiful appearance than they had previously undergone. The air smelled fresh. Children laughed, to nothing in particular – maybe that's what's so magical about Christmas, the prospect that it brings out from us happiness that we had not known we encompassed.

Jan had arranged them a room in a hotel, an imperial hotel whose majesty surpassed even that of Dres Vanian Manor. A layer of opulent gold overlay the entire exterior of the building, while a grand marble staircase stemmed from the plaza center to its stony corridors. While some speculated its exterior to be coated with genuine gold, others hypothesized phosphorescent paint, the mechanics of which absorbs sunlight and distributes it during cloudier days. Its inner chambers resembled the castles of a fairy-tale, as it consisted of rich oil paintings of the most remarkable realism; fountains, crystalline fountains that erupted wine instead of water. It even has its own built in stable, allowing its inhabitants to ride through the city, alike true royalty. That, was what Joshua considered the tragic flaw of its construction. Those of nobility preferred consistency, especially when it came to matters of architecture. The addition of a stable within its back gardens was, although romantic, terrible out of place with the overall theme of the building. Horse drawn carriages, on the other hand, would have been more acceptable, but even that was debatable when applied to such a modernized resort.

Besides, horses smell bad.

All arrangements were in order, including projectors placed throughout the city to broadcast live her speech, as well as microphones for the less crowded areas. However, those fortunate enough to glimpse the beauty of the Dres Vaninan Crown princess themselves, would have endure the tedious throngs of surrounding civilians, and the loud winds implemented by the royal helicopter – it was unlikely, very unlikely that they would be able to sneak through the crowds without causing a fuss, especially since both princes were flawlessly clad in their royal gardrobes.

During the entire ride there, Joshua had been abraded. His annoyance was partially due to the presence of Prince Wilfred, who not only occupied the attention of his princess, but also, along with his butler Claude made the limited space within his helicopter incredibly congested, to the point of suffocation, even. Stephanie had been sandwiched between the two princes, which meant that Prince Wilfred attained just as much of her personal space as did Prince Joshua. To further his discontent, she appeared utterly obsequious as Wilfred embraced her shoulders, during when they had experienced minor turbulence upon landing. Unwilling to forfeit his princely pride, all Joshua could have done at the time was, unfortunately, bite sharply into his bottom lip, in hope of supressing his belligerent opinions.

Despite Jan's incompetence in the matters of piloting vehicles, he redeemed himself by organizing the Dres Vaninan couple in the same hotel room. Although he could have further separated the two princes instead of ordering them in consecutive chambers. The first thing Joshua had done upon entering was experiment the sound proof qualities of his room, and after a few tentative knocks, he concluded that they were, although not immaculately effective, proved sufficient enough for his purpose at hand.

All his jealousy and frustration that day had finally reached its breaking point. So, when his princess was bent over her purse, her amber eyes keenly scanning its contents, he had reached out and took a firm hold on her waist, his mouth already tending to the bare skin at the nape of her neck.

"What are you doing?" she asked, impervious to his sweet assaults. In fact, she was almost kind of irritated, for her task at hand was far more important than her husband's endeavors. Whatever he had in mind, she knew that it would result in a mess she'd rather not endure.

"Is it not obvious?" he gently moved her orange tendrils to one side of her head, now employing his teeth to nip at her skin, with just enough _sting _to allot some territorial markings. If Prince Wilfred dared to pull another one of those stunts, like he had done in the helicopter, then he would be at risk for a very _awkward _confrontation.

_Now, she was distracted. _She could feel the fire rising within her cheeks, through her veins and within her heart. Joshua breathed against her, his breath sensual, inebriating and indescribably possessive, as if, the next moment, he would have her secured on their bed, pumping her repeatedly, vigorously until she would release tears of pleasur-

"Joshua." she disentangled herself from his arms. With a stern expression, she admonished a rather aghast prince, "Now's not the time. Speaking of which, can you help me look for something?"

_Hmph. _Painfully repressing his passions, he combed his fingers through his hair to mask his disgruntlement. "What is it that you're looking for?"

"My speech," with her lithe fingers, she drew a small, rigidly square shape in the air, its ethereal geometry disappearing as elegantly as it came. "It was written on a piece of parchment about this size. I swear I had it just a moment ago, and now it's nowhere to be found."

_Why did someone with her verbal eloquence require a speech, for anything…really. _Sensing something off about her, he slumped on their bed, and before she could voice her protest, grabbed her purse from her. He hugged it against his chest, his amethyst eyes earnest as he implored her gaze.

"Stephanie, are you still nervous?"

She shut her lashes, desperation apparent in the soft crease between her brows. "How could I not be? It's obvious the importance of this press conference, not to mention if I screw up, there's no possibility of a do-over. So," she held a hand out towards Joshua, "If I don't find that piece of paper, you can kiss your peace and prosperity goodbye."

He grinned. Instead of conforming to her demand, he reached out, softly grasped her fingers, and with a flinch of muscle pulled her against his chest. Before she could question his sudden movement, he pressed his lips to hers, in a dulcet, indescribably tender kiss that instantly melted her insides. With his spare hand, he cradled her head and rolled her beneath him, so that her gown splashed in velvet maroon across their bed sheets, her body just inches below…

"The only person I intend to kiss," he said, murmuring against the corner of her mouth, "Is you, princess."

She giggled underneath his touch, "That's sweet, but it's not going to help me survive my speech. So," she positioned her palms against his chest, "Before we completely forget why we're here in the first place, I suggest you get off me, Joshua."

He obliged, but only partially. Instead of completely liberalizing her, he propped himself on one elbow, and with his other hand drew her waist towards him so that they lay side by side, their faces nearly touching.

"You're frightened. That's unlike you." With authority, he stated it as an indisputable fact, as opposed to a general inquiry.

She sighed, "Don't mock me, _Your Highness. _The last time I checked, which is this morning, your precious Dres Vanian citizens aren't exactly too thrilled about having the Nerwan Princess deliver their Christmas greetings."

_Not too thrilled? _His eyes widened in awe, for she couldn't be farther from the truth. "You're assuming things."

"Am I?" she challenged, "I don't think so."

Shaking his head, he hopped off their bed, and in long strides walked towards their veranda window, feeling her perplexed gaze on his back all the while.

"See for yourself," he pulled back the curtains. "These people, all of them are awaiting your presence, Stephanie."

Her expression at once became the paragon of astonishment. He watched in fascination as she scurried over, pressing her hands against the glass of their window as she glanced towards the sea of people, all excitedly chatting amongst themselves, their eyes of unanimous elation. Some even brought along photographs of the Prince and Princess, in the form of posters to wave in veneration – Joshua, for one wasn't fond of the idea, for it dehumanized his family by over idealizing their existences; however, he was willing to keep that to himself, if it meant rekindling the confidence of his princess.

So instead, his impatience became one of reaction formation, "You know, they've never done that before."

"Do what?" she asked, her gaze still affixed on the crowds.

"That," he pointed to one excessively large, and rather flaccid poster of themselves. Actually, upon closer scrutiny, it was revealed to be a flag, one supported by a massive pole, and three teenagers wielding its base. "See that? You're more popular than you give yourself credit for."

His confusion propagated when she stepped back, and even more beaten look crossing her features. "That's the thing. With popularity comes expectation. A rising star doesn't come with the anticipation of a burning sun – so when it becomes one of greatness, it's celebrated. However, something that's customarily celebrated is expected to be consistently great, that's why when it even shows the slightest of inconsistencies, it's frowned upon, and that's only putting it lightly."

_Ugh, he just couldn't win with her. _"Why are you so certain that you'll fail?" he asked, tracing his thumb across her cheek, "You're one of the best-spoken people I've ever met."

She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "That's courtesy of Prince Keith Alford, I have only him to thank for that…but that's besides the point," she inclined her head knowingly when Joshua frowned to the mention of another man.

"What I'm trying to say is, even if I'm your wife, Joshua. I'm still the sole heir to the throne of Nerwan. It's hard to take these things lightly, especially when I could potentially fail you, and the rest of Dres Van-"

"Wait," he interrupted her, incredulous. "Are you implying that your concern traces back to what _I _think?"

"Why? Did you not know that?" she frowned, "And here I thought were on the same page this entire time…"

…

There were no words to describe how happy Joshua had felt that very moment. Granted, he should further council her, comfort, and encourage her; it made him a terrible person for relishing in her sadness. But, the very fact of how she fretted over him made him feel…blessed, loved, _euphoric_, even.

Without warning, he closed the distance between them and sealed her in another blood-searing kiss, his flushed mind ignorant of his revealing curtains. He cupped her cheeks, and slowly, slowly did he trace his lips across hers, intent on showing just how much he treasured her, above all, for then to the end of time.

"I love you," he whispered, "I will always love you."

She blushed to his adoring words, "I love you too, but where did that come from, all of a sudden?"

He pressed their lips together once more, "You were worried about what I'd think, were you not? Well, this is my answer. No matter what you do out there, even if you were to start another full-fledged war between our two kingdoms, I would still love you, because you're my wife."

She blinked, "Do you truly mean that?"

He shook his head, amused by just how innocent she sounded. "Of course. I'd go to heaven and hell for you, my princes. You're the only one that I'll love, _endlessly_."

"Then, will you be there when I actually make my speech?"

_Of course he would, especially when she sounded so adorably hopeful. _Reaching out, Joshua buried her face, deep in his chest, his expression one of a dazed resignation, his iridescent irises shining with gratitude. Over the past month, he had been indescribably thankful, thankful that she had entered his life, furious as a hurricane, jumbling his beliefs, his emotions, his depiction of order, and yet, he could no longer envision life without her. Not anymore.

He knew that his attendance during the press conference would have broken at least half a dozen royal accords, but he didn't care. Rules were senseless, solid and merciless, but his princess, the gorgeous monster before him was real and warm – it was a patently simple trade-off to make, one that hadn't even required a second of deliberation.

"Of course I'll be there with you." he murmured against her hair, "So don't worry, you'll be fine."

She nodded inside his arms, her soprano but a fleeting whisper. "Thank you."

_She was thankful? _He drew back, a somewhat impish glint sparkling his irises.

"There's a better way to thank me," he muttered darkly.

She raised her brow, "And what's that supposed to be, exactly?"

_Like she had the nerve to ask. _Within inhuman swiftness, he scooped her up effortlessly in his arms, his expression one of caliginous wanting, a carnal craving that grew more apparent as he tossed her against their bed, his hands already engaged with the zipper at the side of her dress.

"Wait," she protested, breathless by the smothering kisses he pressed to her jaw, "I have to leave within twenty minutes! We don't have enough time -"

He effectively shut her insolent mouth with the rough insertion of his tongue, at once combating her heightened senses with his masterful maneuvers. She tasted of cherries, or of strawberries - he couldn't adamantly discern as he sucked on her lip, his fingers taunting her breasts, her stomach, and after uplifting the manifold layers of her gown, her entrance. Stephanie squirmed underneath his touch, her legs involuntarily moving to blockade his assault; however, her attempts were immediately futile as Joshua dragged her gown down her shoulders, revealing her porcelain skin, still slightly bruised by the undertakings of their preceding night.

"Nonsense," he said, licking the skin at her thighs, causing her heart to rapidly accelerate. Then, deciding to intensify the rosy shadows upon her cheeks, he kissed the arc of her hipbones, seconds before he proceeded to remove her undergarments with his teeth.

"It's very possible, given the present time frame." After discarding the flimsy piece of lace, he tersely inserted _several _fingers inside her core, immediately managing to strengthen her arousal. She screamed, her lips forming a popping O-shape, as if inviting him to beleaguer her breath right out of her body…

Gritting his teeth, he added, "But it would mean that we wouldn't have enough time for foreplay, which seemingly isn't a problem, considering how," he retrieved his fingers from inside her, and with triumphant eyes glanced at the moistened remains of her enticement dripping down his palm.

"_Considering how wet you already are," _he arched his back forward to whisper in her ear.

She grimaced in shame, to which he decided to allocate her a moment of recovery, where he would take advantage of the flying moments to discard his own clothing. Seconds had not even transpired before she felt his hands encircle her ankles, and with a dangerous growl placed them upon his shoulders,

"Don't move," he commanded as she stiffened, "This way, you're able to feel all of me."

Hesitantly did she nod, her amber eyes replete with desire as he slowly eased himself into her, his penetration stretching her insides with such majesty that she cried in delight, her winded voice barely audible. She appeared as if an innocent lamb, desperately attempting to escape her inevitable peril by the cunningness of a wolf. His gaze was spell blinding, his lips soft, but gluttonous as he smoldered her lips, devouring wantonly her inner chamber-

"Ahh!" he had finally started move, the immense power by his hips imprisoning her heart, his strength, this position reigning victorious over any other of his previous ravishings. She could feel him, with such lucidity that she lost herself, abandoning control, allowing him to pound into her to his heart's content, her body but a stingless puppet. Her toes curled against his whipping violet hair, to which he'd raise them higher, accommodating further the sensation of him ravenously fouling her... Every time he ventured to do so, he grew larger inside her, expanding her until she would shriek in conflating pleasure and pain, the feeling so divine that her vision had nearly given out. The friction of his member inside her core, was the type of thing that would drive one mad – the slapping of their skins, the ferociously handsome way his eyes were shut in concentration, or the occasional, _callous _tweak he would give her breast, they forsake her every inhibition. She no longer cared of her wild screams, or of the _scandalous _hickeys that emerged across her chest. All she focused on was the rigorous pace of his masculinity puncturing her sex, encountering her end, her womb with his every rhythm. The thundering of her heart was so uncontrollable that she feared she would faint, and as a matter of fact, she did, for a couple seconds as she released, her walls convulsing against him…

With a sensuous snarl, he exploded his cum inside her, its warm gush prevailing within her juices. Though, even despite how intently exhausted Stephanie appeared, Joshua was nowhere satisfied with her body, and was just about to vanquish her with another kiss-

"Your Highness?" came Jan's voice, followed by three steady knocks against their door. Joshua hissed under his breath – for Jan's affinity with either directly, or vicariously disrupting his moments of bliss was not a recent development. In fact, ever since he could remember, Jan had been uncharacteristically popping up in situations, sometimes to rescue the prince from unintentional mortifications, others times he just appeared, well, nobody really knew why.

"Are you ready? All preparations are in order. It is time to start the press conference." he called. Stephanie's expression, on the other hand still remained vacant, unfocused, her rose-like lips dampened and swollen.

"Give us a minute." Joshua retorted, his tone harsher than he intended.

There was a moment of loaded silence before Jan's airy chuckled echoed behind the door, the evocative nature of his laugh reddening Joshua's cheeks. "Very well then, I shall be at the courtyard, along with Prince Wilfred and Lord Claude."

Sometimes, just sometimes, Prince Joshua wanted to punch Jan in the face.

"The conference…is to start?" she enquired, her eyes regaining some if its signature vibrancy. "In the name of Holy Nobel Michael, will we be ready in time?"

"Of course," he smiled, raising her from the pillow. "If I help you, we'll have more than enough time."

"Really? You're good with gowns and make-up?"

Taken aback by her doubt, Prince Joshua had spent the next ten minutes proving his proficiency in female matters, especially those of the more aesthetic department. Although he wasn't as domestic as Prince Keith – the exact reasons of which, until this day remained a mystery – he was still fully capable of perfecting her complexion. After layers of power and scentless hair-spray, he had even gone as far as to applaud his creation.

"There," he proudly held up a mirror to her face, "Now you're presentable."

"I'm always presentable." She said, slightly haughtily, and he couldn't help but laugh. "But thank you. I'm impressed, that was quicker than I expected."

After the two of them had rediscovered their clothes, they had raced through the corridors, producing in their overwhelmed shrieks and curtsies, which, usually would have prompted them to them to halt in their path to address each and one of them. However, given the direness of their situation, Joshua had no choice but to smile faintly as they passed, hoping that his lapse of protocol wouldn't detriment his reputation.

_That was just, another rule he would have to break for her._

"Your Highness! There you are, just in time!" It was unusual, for Jan to exhibit any signs of emotion, but when he scuttled over to Stephanie, his relief was more apparent than Prince Joshua had ever seen. The Philipean Prince, alongside his stone-faced butler, Claude stood, a few paces behind-

"I'm sorry," she held her hands up, "I was looking for something, but after a couple minutes of soul searching, I finally found it!"

"Oh? And what would that be, Princess Stephanie?" Wilfred, with his elusive smile interrupted the conversation, his sapphire eyes glimmering with adulation.

Her smile serene, she turned towards him, and, just in sync with the roar of the crowd outside their door, she said, her voice resolute.

"Courage."

The elaborate doors of the hotel opened, unveiling the three royals, their two butlers, in majesty for the entire realm of Dres Van to witness. The snow had persisted, but were now invisible by the spirited ocean of people before them, their bellows even more dynamic as the Nerwanese-

No, at this point in the narrative, I find it necessary to identify her now, by the convictions of all our main characters, as the _Dres Vanian Princess._

She turned to them, and, in that captivating manner of hers, curtsied for _her _people, her ochre curls more beautiful underneath the contrast of the cloudy skies. Her company roared, all of them raising their hands in the air, waving towards their crown princess as she readily took Jan's offering arm, her poise emanating regality, like she just mythically walked out of a renaissance portrait-

"You've won, Prince Joshua." Prince Wilfred whispered under his breath, his expression blank. "It seems like she's happy with you, so it is no longer my place to interfere with what I think is right."

Joshua took one long, pregnant look at the golden-haired royal.

"Thank you, for caring about her, Prince Wilfred."

Wilfred smiled, a small, sad smile that vanished as quickly as it came. He then extended his hand, which Prince Joshua readily took, his expression although fierce, but comprised of this warmth that, without doubt transmitted to Prince Wilfred's heart. For he knew, if Joshua was capable of consolation, this would inevitably be it.

"I wish you two a lifetime of happiness." he said, his smile returning, and this time enduring.

"Greetings," she said, extending her arms in the air, earning from her audience another round of jubilant reverberations. Jan stood slightly behind her, his eyes full of happiness as she took another step forward, her back straight, chin high, her composure every inch a queen of legendary proportions.

"Merry Christmas to you all, dear citizens." She took a deep breath, building up just enough anticipation to elucidate her next words.

"My name, is Stephanie Lieben."

**Chapter XVIII**

"Prince Roberto, can you please refrain from touching me."

Prince Wilfred stifled a chucked as Roberto retrieved his hand from Keith's shoulder, his expression on of feigned, exaggerated exasperation. The two, have been, since the last hour engaged in lively banter, the 'lively' category undoubtedly coined by the Altarian Prince. The Libertian Prince, on the other hand, appeared just as wrathful as always, with his ferocious emerald irises and imposing exterior, responded to Roberto's antics with just as much patience as an insolent child deprived of sugar.

"Awe, don't be like that, Keithster! It's Christmas, so even a scrooge like you should relax alittle."

"Yes. After all, you only live once," Prince Wilfred remarked, causing Prince Keith to scoff in their direction.

"There can only be one scrooge in this room, and my vote goes to Prince Joshua." Upon Keith's words, Joshua lowered the wine glass at his lips and glared, non-too friendly his rather triumphant, but nonetheless arrogant eyes.

"I do not know of Liberty, Prince Keith, but I can assure you that this year's Christmas, here in Dres Van was an unprecedented success."

That's correct. Unprecedented – that was not only not a hyperbole, but a very much accurate description of their victory that day.

Earlier at the plaza, directly after their surreptitious _rendezvous, _his princess had commenced their speech, her words at once winning the hearts of their people. Not once, had Prince Joshua witnessed a disgruntled face, nor any phrases of menace – all of his people had been unanimously eager to receive Princess Stephanie, and underneath the snowing skies, her beautiful image had been replicated, perhaps several dozen times across the city. At first, Prince Joshua wasn't too thrilled of the idea, for he felt as if she was on display, her beauty so easily depicted for all to see. His anxiety had grown, especially when perhaps hundreds of journalists had swarmed at her, exhausting her with questions of the most insensitive nature. In fact, some had been so borderline offensive that Joshua ventured to defend her himself, but was stopped with a firm hold on his shoulder, by none other than Prince Wilfred.

_"Leave her be," he had said, his expression impassive. "She can handle herself."_

Despite his calm words, Joshua saw that the corner of Wilfred's lips had twitched, ever so ephemerally before he stepped back, obscuring his facade within the shadows of the hotel interior. He couldn't help but feel slightly amused by the happening that had just transpired – for he discovered, that even through Prince Wilfred's impermeable insouciance, that there was something _passionate _about him that classified him as fundamentally human, and not some emotionless robot from a different dimension.

His attention had reverted back to his princess, who, by this point was returning every single one of her question with impeccable grace and flawless mannerisms. The way she would reply to their enquiries reminded him faintly of his mother, when she had first encountered public opposition during the time of her engagement. Their marriage had been controversial, for her mother was not only a foreign noble, but one of significantly lower social standing, and thus had generated a widespread epidemic of disproval that persevered even until this day. Of course, he hadn't been present for the occasion; however, from the many, almost redundantly numerous accounts provided by both his parents, he could already avidly paint a portrait of exactly how _that _press conference finalized.

According to the king, Joshua's mother had secured the heart of their citizens by her ebullience, spirit, and untamed happiness that soon grew contagious amongst the crowd. Little by little, the pointed inquisitions had faded, and were replaced by more positive ones, specifically alluding to the time of their marriage, future aspirations and, at last, her pregnancy. Also according to his father, his mother had responded to the former two questions with elegance befitting a crown princess, but when she was faced with the last, a profuse blush had hovered over her heart-shaped face. For, unbeknownst to the rest of the world, their ardour had been so unyielding, that by the point, she was already two months ripe with child. She could have either formulated a malicious lie, which would prove completely insincere within the next seven months, or tell the truth, and shatter ever last pint of approval she had so meticulously obtained up to point. There had been only two roads, but Joshua's mother had selected a third:

_"That depends on the activism of my fiancé. You'd have to ask him yourself." She had veiled her frustration with a smile._

The crowd had cheered, regardless.

That had been his mother's experience, something that was established within Prince Joshua's mind, which made the actuality of the event much more…surprising, perhaps. Unlike his mother, who had acquired public approbation by temperament, his princess had employed wit, humor, and sarcasm, all at the correct places. She wasn't as particularly impudent as she had been with Prince Joshua, but took upon an impression of sophistication, of noble courteousness that left several prying reporters hanging their heads in shame. Soon, every last one of her spectators gravitated towards reverencing the princess, even those who were enthusiastically in opposition to the Nerwan clause – Joshua could somewhat identify several officials, scattered here and there within the crowd, recorder equipped in hand and hoping that they could be able to capture one of her verbal mishaps. They had too, given up.

Most of her conference had been a success, that is, until an elderly reporter, who appeared to be well within her fifties climbed between her guards, and with her acutely perceptive eyes and excessively red lips, asked her of the question that immobilized the entire crowd.

_"Your Highness, when do you and Prince Joshua plan on having children?" _

That statement had astounded everyone throughout the kingdom. Everything had gone silent – the sounds of people, of birds chirping, even the reminiscent 90s music in the hotel had halted. All had their ears glued to the Dres Vaninan Princess, their hearts echoing in unison, of strenuous anticipation, that their magic even infected Prince Joshua himself…

Princess Stephanie appeared in awe, for a split second before a smile emerged upon her rosy lips. It wasn't one of expectation, no, but of _defiance, _of _challenge, _as if her spirits had been enlightened, heightened by the very question.

Looking the reporter in the eye with her clear amber gaze, she had replied:

_"We no longer need to plan anything." _Then, turning to the crowd, her smile widened, showing her pearlescent white teeth as she bounced her curls for emphasis,

"_Because I'm already pregnant."_

Joshua's world had literally been turned upside down, without hope of ever reclaiming its original balance.

Later, before they were about to return to Dres Van manor, Joshua had blockaded her escape in the corridors, with clenched fists and whitened knuckles. However, in contrast to his near trembling body, his eyes were tranquil, the kind of eerie, foreboding silence foreshadowing a monstrous storm that would persist for the next year, if not decade.

"_Why did you tell the press that you were pregnant?" _he asked, attempting his best to assemble his usual dead-pan voice. But even despite his efforts, the undulating passions of his tone were apparent as daylight.

She shook her head, her expression grim. "To maximize effect. If I were to inform the press now, coinciding with the whole theme of 'holiday magic', it'll elicit heavily sentimental responses from our citizens. That way, we're almost guaranteed unity – that's the whole point of emotional memories. We're more likely to remember how we felt during certain events rather than the events themselves. The details can be brushed over later, they're not important"

_Not important? _"So what you're saying is," he relaxed against the walls, and rested his head against the metallic frame of a classical painting. "You manipulated our people by lying to them?"

She shrugged, "It's for a greater cause."

"You do realize," he crossed his arms, and lifted his brows in a manner meant for intimidation, "That by doing so, you just broke perhaps three dozen laws in the Dres Vaninan Royal Accords, fifteen of which could possibly relieve of your position as Crown Princess."

Her eyes had widened for just the briefest of moments, before understanding dawned upon her docile features. "The fact that you're telling me that, indicates that you're already cooking up some kind of contingency plan."

He laughed, "I wouldn't call it a contingency plan, but definitely something that would resolve our current dilemma."

"I have a feeling I don't want to hear what it is," she backed away, her expression dubious.

Just when she turned on her heel, Joshua grasped her firmly by the wrist and pulled her backwards, resulting her back to collide with the hotel walls. Taking advantage of her astonishment, he caged her with his arms, permitting her no escape as he leaned in, _tantalizingly close _to whisper in her ear.

"The only thing we can do, is _try even harder to produce an heir_." He breathed, and brusquely lapped her earlobe with his tongue, causing her to whimper within his attacks.

"But of course, you already knew that." Joshua had shifted his lips to her jawline, her neck, the mouth-watering curvature of her collarbones, the slightly, just slightly visible flesh at her cleavage. He pinned her wrists above her head, forming just enough space about her neckline for him to nip tenderly at her breasts. Her breathing accelerated uncontrollably, her legs threatening to give out any second then... She had learned her head back in ecstasy, completely disregarding the fact that they were in an extremely public place, whilst simultaneously being, at the moment, the unparalleled cynosures of the nation-

"Your Highnesses. It's time to leave." Before Joshua had time to react, Stephanie had already shoved him away, her anxious eye scrutinised carefully Jan's indecipherable exterior. He chuckled under his breath – no matter how long she would analyze his butler, her efforts would render ultimately fruitless. After all, he possessed first-hand experience in the matter to acknowledge that when Jan smiled in his aura of perfection, not even the most brilliant geniuses would be able to penetrate his thoughts. Sometimes, he wondered whether or not Jan was human, or whether he was just intentionally, so awkward that his extremities in the end nullified themselves.

Gesturing towards a turn at the hallway, Jan didn't appear at all uncomfortable as the two royals frantically rearranged their clothing. "This way, Your Highnesses. Prince Wilfred and Lord Claude are boarding the helicopter as we speak."

…

The ride back was so prevalent with silence that, several times, Joshua had to repress the urge not to open the doors and drop himself into the city below him. To worsen the awkward confrontation, Jan had been smiling the entire time through his rear-view mirror, in his contentedness mocking the furious blush on Prince Joshua's cheeks. To _further aggravate the situation, _his princess sat as far away from him as possible – in fact, she was riding shotgun, or whatever the helicopter equivalent was called. So, much to Joshua's misfortune, Prince Wilfred, his butler Claude and the Dres Vanian Prince himself were forced to cram against one another in the back, their bodies thwartingly pressed against another in the most disturbing manner imaginable.

_In the name of Holy Nobel Michael, Joshua had never felt so agitated before, not in his entire life._

Much to his fortune, the fates appeared to have favored Prince Joshua that year, for when he had landed on the ceiling of his manor, he was welcomed with the delight of Roberto and, well, a less angry than usual Prince Keith Alford. Beside him, had been a girl that he had never before seen – a blond, sunny looking girl appearing scarcely thirteen, her golden curls envious by the sun god himself, and eyes so enchantingly green; not of the Caribbean green, borderline turquoise green of Prince Keith, but the color of a fair spring meadow, directly before rainbow rows of efflorescence would bloom within its emerald fields. If Prince Wilfred was ever to have a daughter, or a younger sister, that was what Prince Joshua suspected she would look like.

However, his convictions were defeated when Prince Roberto gestured towards the girl, who stepped forward right on cue, her smile enthralling, but in an innocent, jejune manner.

"I don't think you've met, Joshy-poo," Prince Roberto laughed when Joshua wrinkled his nose in distaste. "This is Princess Catherine Alford, Prince Keith's younger sister."

"It's an honor to make your acquaintance, Prince…" her expression faltered, her uncertainty soon replaced with a forced smile, one clearly apologetic.

"Joshua." he interjected, this time winning from her a genuine grin. That was perhaps the first sign of positive emotion any of the Alfords had ever exhibited, and probably _will, _ever exhibit. Prince Keith sneered under his breath, while Prince Roberto laughed absently to himself, as if savoring in how he had just initiated another awkward clash between the young royals.

However, when Princess Stephanie had stepped out of the helicopter, Catherine's face was instantly illuminated with a look of pure rapture as she raced towards her. Perplexedly, his princess had been just as excited as they were locked in embrace, and although the older of the two was taller by quite an interval, they looked like…they fit together. Perhaps that was the magic of friendship. It made even the most unnatural occurrences natural.

Which brings our narrative back to the present – the four Princes were situated within Joshua's dining hall, two of which already intoxicated with an abundance of rich Dres Vaninan wine.

The two princesses, on the other hand, had locked themselves in Stephanie's bedroom ever since the rooftop episode. At first, Joshua, alongside a curious, not to mention overprotective Prince Keith had paced outside their door, and one of them would occasionally place their ear against the polished wood, hoping to incarcerate a word or two of their colloquy. For a while, their efforts were to no avail; however, during one extraordinarily odd, not to mention very much worrisome subject, Prince Keith had heard the two discuss the intricacies of …child bearing. Joshua had dismissed it with a ridiculous flap of his hand. Prompted by indignation, Prince Keith suggested that he too listen in, to which Joshua obeyed, assuming that nothing could possibly go wrong. However, not only was Keith blatantly correct in the nature of their conversation, but the Dres Vaninan prince also discovered in awe, just how alarmingly specific certain descriptions were.

With profusely redden cheeks, the angry Prince Joshua was just about to kick open the door when the duo of Prince Roberto and Wilfred dragged him back, both stifling their amusement underneath their breaths. So, in an attempt to pacify Joshua's bubbling fury, and somewhat comfort a forlorn Prince Keith, who had just discovered that his innocent little sister was far more mature than he'd expected, Roberto had recommended a Christmas feast.

Wilfred had turned his head in defeat. Usually, he would have been completely enthusiastic in such matters, especially those pertaining to Christmas celebrations. The problem is, whenever Prince Roberto would suggest matters even remotely related to a 'feast', it was very likely euphuism for a wild drinking party, where more often than not, he'd proceed to ask the other princes to dance.

"Yeah, that sounds plausible." Prince Joshua had said, headfirst darting towards his dining hall, more than eager to escape the gracelessness of the atmosphere encompassing them. Prince Keith followed suit, his shoulders slumped forward, his typical display of chauvinistic dominance non-existent. Prince Roberto jogged behind the two, practically radiating glee as he winked at Prince Wilfred, signalling ebulliently his conquest.

Wilfred sighed, his sapphire eyes desperate.

As expected, after the consumption of two entire bottles of wine, Prince Roberto had already transformed with dreamy haze into an over-sized teddy bear. He had, for the majority of the night, been glued to Prince Wilfred, as if the two were the most intimate of lovers who just died to share a secret moment. He was aghast when the golden-haired prince brutally turned him down, so with teary eyes and drunken breath, he latched on to Prince Keith. That was a bad idea.

"How am I even remotely similar to Scrooge?" he raised his brow, but not nearly _normal_ enough to truly admonish Joshua for his accusation. Though, his tameness could be attributed to his intoxication. Maybe. It's up for debate.

"You seldom smile. You always dismiss your butler Luke as if he just disgraced you in the most formidable manner. Not to mention you have a sister who embodies light and the Christmas spirit." Joshua said, sipping absently at the wine in hand whilst carefully observing Keith's reaction.

He frowned. "I find Charles Dicken's imagination regarding the foiling family member lacking. One would not expect a well-endowed man to chastise his nephew just because of how he acts."

"Ohhh, our Keithster's avoiding the topic now. Could this be an admission of guilt?"

He shot up from his seat, "How many times do I have to warn you, not to call me Keithster?!"

Roberto's eyes widened theatrically as he tumbled over towards the Libertian Prince. He attempted to hug him, only to have Keith dodge fastidiously out of the way, causing him to land rather maladroitly on Joshua's couch.

"Awe, don't be like that, Keithster!" he said, ignoring Wilfred's silent warning, "It's only a nickname, you know, a term of endearment commonly used amongst friends-"

"I know what a nickname is!" Keith bellowed angrily, and Joshua's lips writhed in mock pity for the Altarian Prince. None of them, no matter sober or befuddled by alcohol wished to be on the receiving end of the Libertian Prince's anger, a trait amplified especially when he was drunk. It seemed like one of those defense mechanisms, one of those that would manifest the subconscious when the conscious dulls, and thus revealing a more primitive version of oneself. For Prince Keith, his rather inconsistent outbursts would surely indicate that he, for the sake of his own health, shouldn't consume any more liquor, at least not for the rest of the evening.

"Why don't we talk of something else," Wilfred said, before Prince Keith threatened to explode.

"Ohhh! Joshy-poo, aren't you really good at singing? Why don't you sing us a song?" Roberto clung onto Joshua, who shot up from his seat before the closeness between them became unbearable.

"I will not do such a thing." His tone left no room for argument, which would have been persuasive had the other prince retained their usual state of minds.

"Awe, come on!" Roberto remained undefeated, "I've heard from Jan that you're quite the vocalist, Prince Joshua-"

"Is this supposed to a back-handed insult towards me?" Keith raised a brow, followed by another sip of champagne. Somewhere between their conversations, the Libertian Prince had subtly switched to a less potent alcohol. That was wise, on his part anyway.

Wilfred quickly masked his amusement by a turn of head, while Prince Roberto, the halcyon jester of the evening widened his eyes in dramatic recognition. "Oh! I'm sorry Keithster! I completely forgot that your singing makes children cry!"

"W-what?!" Prince Keith shot out of his seat, flabbergasted. "What did you just say to me?!"

"Ohh, looks like the Keithster's angry now. Everyone, take cover!"

Joshua shook his head absently as the two princes proceeded to chase each other around his dining hall. While the Libertian Prince was taller and stronger, Prince Roberto had the upper hand in agility, rendering the former inept in capturing the latter. It was somewhat unruly, the cacophony of their footsteps, especially when they were so preoccupied with their drunkenness at that. Though, the tense air within the room, thanks to the impudence of the two princes had diminished. Even Prince Wilfred, who had been examining his environs silently, relaxed his shoulders, his sapphire eyes taking on a more aqua appearance, one more tranquil, more transparent.

Joshua's mind flew back to the press conference, when she had informed the entire world of her pregnancy. There was no doubt that her statement would occupy every last headline the next morning – clothing brands, those specificity in maternity clothes would hearten over this revelation, for anything that was even remotely associated with the Lieben family right now, would inescapably acquire immense popularity.

Though, Joshua wasn't particularly keen on collateral damage at the moment. His attention focused on resolving the lie behind her propaganda rather than its superfluous aftereffects. Truth be told, they had been attempting at an heir for two weeks now, with such extreme regularity that even despite their limited time, the fact that she was still not yet pregnant came as a sure surprise. Just the amount of…_coupling_ that week alone, when applied to any normal couple would have guaranteed a child. He couldn't help but wonder, if either them were incompetent in certain areas-

"Prince Joshua." Prince Wilfred had come to sit beside him. "Is something the matter?"

That was odd. Wilfred wasn't the type adequately loquacious, especially to interject in the thoughts of others – or so Joshua had assumed, for the golden-haired prince always had this aura of nonchalance that constantly encased his being. Perhaps it was due to their mutual understanding earlier that day, or perhaps it was due to the infectious holiday spirit, he couldn't quite tell. Perhaps Joshua was drunk, just like the rest of them to genuinely care of what he'd say next.

"Prince Wilfred," he said, without meeting Wilfred's eyes. "Are you familiar with the art of conception?"

The impact of Wilfred leaning languidly in his leather cushions transmitted to his back with a small, ethereal creak. "Are you referring to the phenomenon when ship navigators would-"

"No. I'm talking about more private matters, fertilization, to be exact." He astonished even himself by asking such an insensitive question, especially since it was clear that Prince Wilfred still fostered feelings for his princess.

The Philipean raised his brow, and for time that evening, he was speechless. With awed eyes did he inspected Prince Joshua, who to mask his embarrassment, gulped down another glass of wine, allowing the slow, sweet sensation of the drink to melt inside his throat. There had always been something sensual, something profoundly _provocative _about the consumption of wine – its color, its texture, its optimal temperature, all of it was faintly erotic to indulge. Or, it could just be wine, and Joshua could just be acting up on his intemperance.

"That's…quite the daring topic." Prince Wilfred finally recovered. "Are you…having trouble in this domain?"

"I don't know. But you heard what Stephanie said during the conference today. We're currently lacking a plan, a plan that can ensure her pregnancy without swaying too far from the impression of my people."

"What you mean is. The sooner she is with child, the less suspicion it shall generate from the public."

Joshua nodded, and combed his hair absently, slightly irate at the soft brush of his bangs against his forehead.

"Yes."

Prince Wilfred appeared to have sunk deep into contemplation. There were no words to describe how thankful Joshua was to the Philipean Prince at that moment, for he had half expected him to retort in some absurd, unintentionally humorous fashion that also timidly ridiculed his enquiry. Or, if Prince Keith and/or Prince Roberto were near, their discussion would turn towards a much more hectic direction, which, amidst their drunkenness would result in an angry rumble of sorts.

As he awaited Wilfred's response, Joshua brought his wine glass to his lips once more, relishing the cool liquid, from which sprang a wondrous grape redolence as it swirled around his tongue. Dres Van's wine, although not as extravagant as Charles' wine, nor did it possessed its large variance, nevertheless tasted in a sense…_enchanting. _Perhaps it was his innate nationalism that prejudiced his judgement, but he couldn't help but think his wine was softer, tenderer, more aesthetically welcoming in the way it dallied with his senses.

"Have you tried," Wilfred said in a small voice, small enough so his missive was only designated to Prince Joshua's ears. "The assistance of external forces?"

_Had he always been so vague? _"What are you talking about?"

He shrugged, a roguish smile hovering over his English mouth. "Gravity, for example. It facilitates fertilisation, say, if you were to position her in a certain way, or perhaps, secure her in a certain fashion across-"

Wilfred leaned closer so that he could whisper in Joshua's ear. Although his mind was very much clouded from the copious amounts of alcohol digested that night, he was still much too sober to digress such scandalous matters to the rest of the world. Joshua could feel his cheeks rising in heat to Wilfred's words, his mind scattered, perplexed by how the Philipean Prince had become so fluent in such a devious subject. Though, he had to admit, Prince Wilfred's ideas were indeed credible, and very much scientific.

After a couple minutes of muted whisperings on their part, Prince Keith, who had been obsessively chasing after Prince Roberto grew fatigued, and before he knew it, collapsed his face with the grounds beneath him in a lengthy flirtation. Roberto hadn't immediately noticed that his predator had fainted, but when he did he had laughed, his chocolate-brown eyes hazily unfocused before stumbling over to the remaining two,

"Wills! Joshy-poo!" he said, and the two of them frowned to each other. "Keithster's collapsed on the ground! Help me carry him to safety!"

Wilfred had sighed with a furrow of his brows, while Joshua learned of the news with a fearsome scowl. Right there, right then, after the famous _Wildabeast _had educated Prince Joshua with his questionably-sourced wisdom, their dinner party had concluded with an unconscious Prince Keith and an annoyingly childish Roberto.

Which, brings us to the end of Christmas day. As the cadenced chimes of midnight echoed through the hollow grandeur of Dres Van Manor, all was well. The staff, after a day of demanding arrangements and a secret exchanging of gifts, had all returned to their chambers and fell into slumber, awaiting within their joyous dreams a new morning. The Princes, well-fed and happily tipsy, had not reserved the time to discard their clothes when they collapsed into bed, relishing the velvet softness of their pillows as they snored softly into the night. Our two beloved Princesses had, before the melodic bells sounded already greeted the realm of sleep, with joined hands and a brilliant, irreconcilable diversion of midnight auburn and shadow gold. The stars twinkled, and the oceans shifted. All was quiet, and all was well.

Quiescence had spellbounded Dres Van Manor. Underneath the niveous skylines, the fluttering snowflakes and swirling eastern tempests, the castle appeared as if something straight-out of a fairy tale – pastoral, surreal and expressionistic. Every lining, every corner of this grandiloquent portrait was highlighted with chiaroscuro effects, separating the light from the dark, the shades from the serene moonlight, and the light beige of carnations from their violet wisterian counterparts.

_All was quiet, and all was well…_

_ All except one. _One single soul that remained awake in this peaceful world, one person that would, under all circumstances, remain immune to the bliss that embraced the manor. One person who smiled wickedly to the falling snow and crepuscular candlelight inside their chamber.

_One lost, but finally found. _

"Stephanie? I need to talk to you."

She glanced up from her dish, her creamy cheeks still stuffed with food. It was fascinating, how she managed to enjoy her meals without it burdening her slim frame – personally, Joshua knew of many woman who would kill for that particular ability of hers, his mother included.

"What do you want." There it was. Whenever Joshua would even go as far as to sidetrack her from a meal, her tone would instantly become antagonistic, as if he was some antichromatic alien instead of her beloved husband. "If there's anything you want to say, just say it here."

Joshua stole a glance towards Jan, who was at the very end of room, polishing a plate and humming contentedly to himself, his mood idyllic. Even despite their distance, Joshua was certain that with his steward's acute sense of hearing, he would detent their every last word.

Grimacing, he said, "Nevermind. Meet me in my room after you're finished."

"What's with all the mystery, Joshua? Why can't you just say it here?" she raised a delicate brow, her amber eyes twinkling with sudden interest. "It's not like Jan will judge you or anything. Get it over with."

"Just do as I say," he hissed, causing her to sigh in defeat. Jan, who appeared to have detected the desperation in his Prince's voice, turned his head towards the two. Joshua immediately registered his attention, and before Jan could manifest it into a question scurried out of his dining hall, and only did he reach his bedroom did he finally relax his breath.

It was undoubtedly because of his newfound understanding with Prince Wilfred that had enticed this reaction out of him. He didn't like it - the incessant return of his thoughts to their conversation to nights ago, when Wilfred had so…ineloquently lectured him on the niceties of conception. His heart had pounded just by listening to his depictions, and now, every cell in his body boiled with irrevocable fire,

_For he was going to experiment his suggestions with his beloved princess._

In lieu of a session on biology, Prince Wilfred had deployed a very much unhealthy balance of deplorable mechanics, those such as wanton toys and gadgets to maximize her pleasure. He had said, the more intense and frequent her convulsions would come, the closer he would be able to bring his seed to her womb, this facilitating any changes of impregnation. But the key, above all, was to suspend her in such a way that gravity would accomplish his goal for him.

It was surely awkward for Joshua, when he commanded Jan via his brash sternness for ropes just yesterday afternoon-

"Joshua?" she asked, the sharp clicks of her stiletto heels disrupting his thoughts. She was right outside her door, judging by the amplitude of her voice-

"Are you in there?"

He gulped, and inhaled several times to calm his heart before opening the door, unveiling her earnest features, her shining amber eyes and fiery curls in cascade.

"There's something I need you to do for me, Stephanie."

**Chapter XIX**

As Stephanie stepped elegantly through his door, a new sense of dubiousness emerged within Joshua's chest.

It wasn't that he harbored a particular propensity towards anything extreme, no. In reality, it was far from that – Joshua never really appreciated how the modern world would reverence perplexity, for he believed that those in the most primitive, primordial state were most respectable. Innocence, above all was a trait to be preserved, to endure precisely due to its purity. It was not only an intellectual, but also cultural abhorrence that we no longer savor in what's plain and placid, but instead strive for the extravagant, those that are adulterated with embellishments of excessivities, and of sins.

Which was, in its own notion, ironic, considering Prince Joshua seldom revealed his true self – the childlike, enigmatic prince beneath the stony chrysalis concealing his heart.

Given that, our prince held a strict preference towards everything in its purest form. Everything – from his daily dose of hard liquor, to his choice of parchment and wardrobe, the last something his Princess, even after her proclamation of love, found particularly chafing. So, it follows through that Prince Joshua favoured even the most scandalous, the most _sexual _of engagements in their unalloyed forms, that is, if the concept in itself is not an innate contradiction of sorts.

Which would mean, he avoided at all costs the various toys that accompanied sex – those publically censured but cosseted in private by couples of insatiable lust, or perhaps just a lonesome housewife dying to install some excitement into her life upon the abstinence of disloyal husband.

It took courage, for women to show their bare bodies before men, or at least, that was what his mother had informed him of. Women, more than men feared judgement and scrutiny, and in their weakness often had their self-esteems shattered beyond repair by even the most unpremeditated comment from their partners. Therefore, Joshua found it highly amoral for men to pressure them into anything out of expectation, for they were too live, sentimental beings to be cherished, instead of inanimate sex objects to be toyed with to one's content.

Those were his beliefs when he was the single, stud Prince of Dres Van; however, after he had acquired such a beguilingly beautiful wife, the latter option of wild and raunchy sex started to accumulate in appeal. He had simply lost count of how many times he yearned to bend her over their breakfast table, disregarding the perturbed expressions of others and fuck her senseless, until their mingling, sweaty bodies would collapse, eyes indolent and breaths smothered. Or, when he would accidentally intrude in her chambers while she was running a shower – oh, every cell, every breathing cell in Joshua's body warned him not to join her, and pound her with superior force against her shower walls until she begged for mercy. Even then, he wouldn't stop, not until he would mount her ever last inch of skin with his tongue, surmount her every sensitive fold with his throbbing masculinity. Not until her insides would be overflowing with his cum, dripping languorously down her thighs while she pleaded with desperate features his clemency.

He wanted her – he had resisted the thought for so long now, but its veracity became too overwhelmingly powerful for him to ignore. He wanted her, and he had to have her. There was no other way around it.

_And now, he had the perfect contraptions to attain his goal._

Wilfred had recommended gravity, which was just euphuism for suspending her, legs first in air, while laying the rest of her body on some surface. According to the Philipean Prince, this way, his seeds would have a better chance of reaching her womb before they would exit, alongside the rest of her exhalations. Also, in a darker, more evocative voice, he had told a profusely blushing Joshua that such a position would guarantee the most intense, most unforgettable orgasm she would ever endure.

Much to Joshua's surprise, his bed proved much more useful than simply for the purpose of sleeping. The prince comprised of one of those antique, Renaissance beds, replete with transparent curtains of the softest shade of purple – a color that dignified royalty, in the highest imaginable order. What supported the draping fabrics were iron bars, ones that suffered redundant rusting episodes, each of them immediately followed by scrupulous polishing by Joshua's staff. But above all, they were definitely solid enough to support her, or perhaps their joined weights.

That very morning, Joshua had secured ropes on each side of his bed, arranging them in a fashion of adjustable elevation, so that with a pull on one end, the other would lift higher in the air. Torque. Never before had physics become such a useful discipline.

"Joshua?" she asked with her innocent amber gaze, her lips plump, rosy as if esculent. He could feel iridescent beads of perspiration gliding down his back, taunting his resolution to remain calm.

"Uh, so, what did you want to talk about?" she arched a brow, followed by a firm cross of her arms before her waist. She had no idea, just how much that particular gesture of hers would thrust her breasts forward, providing Joshua a full-on, front-row visage of her scrumptious cleavage…

"The press conference," he said, closing the distance between the two of them. "I intend to fix your mishap."

She knitted her brows together; however, her façade of anger was not nearly enough persuasion for Joshua to ignore the pink penumbras materializing upon her creamy cheeks. _Good, so she understood his message. _

"I know, that was a mistake on my part, and as to how to fix…" her gaze wandered cautiously to his chest, unaware of how her timidities only enticed him further.

"I get it, but Joshua, you're not seriously thinking of doing that right now, are you?"

He laughed, his tenor peculiarly not of joy, but of a throaty, dark sound that resembled a _savage _growl than a simple expression of happiness. It was as if the air around them rose in temperature – Stephanie could feel goosebumps rising on the plane of her arms, and the gradual, furtive arousal of a heated atmosphere, one that instantly brought her heart to her throat.

…

She watched in bubbling trepidation as Prince Joshua raised his chin, in a commanding, authoritative dominance that he rarely exhibited. She had only seen such an expression once, and it was the night of her confession, where he had decreed they start trying for a child instantly. He had been deprived, predatory, and unyielding in his advances; his love was so passionate, _vicious, _yet so indescribably enjoyable that she couldn't bear part from him, not even for the slightest of seconds. There lay no question of what was yet to come, but some part of her actually looked forward to it, especially since her prince's features were focused with such desire…

He came closer, close enough to touch, to kiss. She half-expected him to immediately commence removing her clothes, or assaulting her with kisses and rough gropes, racing her heart and dampening her core. So, she couldn't help but have felt a slight disappointment, when all he did was embrace her waist and bury his face in her hair, breathing in her bodily redolence as he brushed the nape her neck with his nose.

"Joshua?" she asked, her voice small. "You're not planning on doing that now, are you?"

To her dismay, he chuckled, his fingers tightening around her velvet bodice, until her chest spilled languidly over his muscles. Biting sharply into her lip, she stifled a gasp, a gasp that soon transformed into a breathless moan when he nipped at the curve of her collarbone. His nibble had been forceful, and she was sure that, within seconds, her skin would emerge another audacious mark that so relentlessly occupied her body. The sharpness of his teeth was soon replaced with the softness of his lips, tracing, with a feather light touch upwards, to her neck, her jaw, her cheeks. Everywhere but her eager mouth, already fervent for his onerously sweet kiss.

But he didn't kiss her. Instead, he trailed his lips to her ear, and in a flash resumed his nibbling, but with the employment of his tongue instead. He teased her in a way that made her insides melt, made her veins feel as if they were ignited with fire. Helpless, she threw her arms around his neck, desperate to close the tedious distance between them until she would lose balance.

"That, princess." he whispered, his breath alarmingly, dangerously hot against her sensitive lobes. "Is exactly what I intend on doing. However…"

Her whimper was more than audible when Joshua detangled from her arms, a defiant glint within his molten amethyst irises. This time, only taking a hold of her hand, he slowly led her to his bed. It wasn't until then had she realized its blatantly obvious irregularities – there were ropes, adjourned by metal bars and very much resembled handcuffs at their ends. _No, he wasn't thinking of…_

Her first instinct was to bolt from his room; however, with the encumbrance of her five inch stiletto heels, not to mention the fact that he was likely quicker than her, that thought vanished as quickly as it came. Though, even the most imaginatively penurious could have deduced their purpose. _She had no idea that Joshua was into such…such devices, at the very least. But the question was, which one of them would play the dominant role-_

"Stephanie." Her thoughts were disrupted as he abruptly removed his scarf, followed briefly by his shirt. Oh, how she longed to admire his well-toned chest, his muscles, his defined hipbones…but alas, she was not yet able to forsake her effeminate pride, especially since his prime determination was to tempt her into…_whatever he had in mind._

"Yes, Your Highness. What can I do for you today?" she bent low in a mock curtsey, her lips upcurving in a triumphant grin upon his agitated scoff. _Good, so she still had the same effect on him. _

"I suggest you brace yourself, for I plan to impregnate you with child within the next hour. So, what transpires within this room shall be worse than anything you've ever experienced." He challenged. Despite the ominousness of his tone, his eyes were on her, imploring her reaction with that childlike gaze of his. Despite his harsh, borderline vindictive statement, he retained his kindness.

"Wow," she remarked, attempting her best to mask the maddened flutter of her heart. "That's quite ambitious of you. Tell me, how exactly do you intend on doing so?"

She knew that her provocation would result in a furious blush on his part. Expectedly, Joshua's gaze darted away from her, and beseeched every last corner of his room before landing on her once more. This time, his cheeks were of such a prominent red that she could no longer suppress her giggle.

"Don't mock me, Stephanie." Abruptly did he yank her towards him, and roughly did he snatch her chin with his thumb, his nails digging into her jaw. "I expect you to do everything I say within the next hour, without argument. Do you understand?"

_Right, like that was going to happen._ "Or else? What, Joshua. What can you possibly do to threaten me at this stage?"

His expression became one of umbrageous darkness upon her words. Before she could even recognize what went on, he had swirled her and slammed her against the nearby wall. While one hand pinned both her wrists up above her head, his other had traversed underneath her skit, and was slowly, sensuously stroking her inner thighs, the territory _treacherously_ close to her entrance…

"If you dare disobey me, then we shall repeat the following lesson until you learn true compliance."

She snorted, _right, because you're just so good at-_

He suddenly shifted aside her undergarments, and with vigorous force inserted his fingers inside her tight entrance, not yet moistened enough to undergo a pain-free imposition. Her lips popped open in a wild moan, her fingers curling involuntarily as he extended his hand inside her, the hard, strenuous friction jerking her arms upwards. Her protests were to no avail, since Joshua was significantly stronger than her, especially so, when she was so imminently vulnerable underneath his hold.

Her insides felt like their contained a hurricane as he began to stroke her walls, each finger prodding, stimulating just the right places for her to tear up with pleasure. It was incomprehensible, how she would attain this much _excitement _just from fingering alone – but Joshua had long, lithe fingers befitting a master pianist, and by all means, his performance perhaps surpassed those of the most remarkable genius. Her breath became laborious, her heart overdriven by passions as he hooked her g-spot, while with his thumb, he unearthed her clit and rubbed, applying just enough _sting_ to send her over the edge. Her eyes had rolled back into her head, and it was then when he started to pump her, the painful, but immensely pleasurable contact of her core enveloping his hand eliciting the most untamed scream from her up to point,

"O-oh god! Joshua, please! I c-can't-"

He laughed, but didn't remove his hold. Instead, the rhythm in which he impropered her increased, his pumps quickening rapidly, his thumb tending to her clit all the while. She could feel her lower body start to throb, to quiver and remonstrate in that pre-release symphony that ached her for more. But she knew, that no matter what could do or say, her husband would not indulge her that privilege, at least, not until she gave him exactly what he wanted.

"Okay!" she yelped, as Joshua promptly inserted another finger into her, pointedly massaging the most delicate part of her insides. She couldn't take it anymore, unless she wanted to slump into a puddle of shameful sludge that was previously the Nerwan Princess.

"I c-cant! Joshua, you win! I'll do exactly what you say!"

Her back had slumped forward when Joshua finally released her arms, causing her to buckle forward until her knees encountered the ground, her head nearly following suit when Joshua obstructed her path. Her expression had contorted in awe, for he didn't have his hands on her waist, nor her shoulders, like some courteous gentleman would have – instead, he had grasped her breasts, his fingers still damped by her juices as he elevated her upright, his hand callously hard against her chest.

She let out a sigh of relief, for he didn't proceed to fondle her, but instead, with sonorous majesty and impressive poise, he pointed a long limb towards his bed. They were adequately close, close enough for her to feel his breath prickling her skin, but there was no way, no way she would blush like on insolent ingénue. Not unless she wanted to further dismantle her dignity.

"Go stand over there," he said.

She shot him a malicious stare before stomping over, with his steady entourage just several steps behind her. To tell the truth, by this point, she was certain of _what _he wished to do with her – it was the _how_ that mystified her. He could have taken advantage of her just moments ago, like he always had: in that urgent, gluttonous and immeasurably gratifying manner of his. There was something wrong, something terribly wrong with him, and Stephanie couldn't decide whether or not she enjoyed the anticipation, or if she feared it.

She stopped to turn him, her eyes widening as she beheld the devilish smirk upon his mouth, now that, was the last expression she expected him to wield-

"Strip."

Stephanie blinked, her lustrous lashes fluttering a couple times before Joshua's message finally sank in. Had he seriously just said what she thought he had said?

"You want me to…what?"

Clearly astounded by her question, Joshua's face was too occupied by a depiction of awe before he knitted his brows in evident frustration.

"I want you to strip. You know, to take your clothes off."

_Seriously? _"You're kidding, right? That's got to be _THE _worse pick-up line in the history of pick-up lines. You know, I'm surprised they haven't kicked you out of the male population yet, because that's just-"

"Don't talk back!" he bellowed angrily. Then, after retaining his composure, he started at her with another suggestive glare at her, one that immediately boiled her blood beneath her skin… "Or, would you rather me punish you once more, Stephanie?"

_Tsk. _Mustering all her menace into one singular glance, she stepped back to formulate some distance between them. She couldn't quite fathom how her caring, at times amazingly tender husband would dare her into such an impudent task. Even despite how much she was aroused by the idea, it was still…graceless, definitely not something befitting a princess. Still, the prospect of removing her clothes sounded infinitely more attractive than having him play with her like a doll of sorts…

She tentatively raised a finger to the shoulder of her gown, and bit down on her lip when Joshua expectantly arched a brow. Her breathing heaved, but her movements remained steady as she slid the material down her shoulders, unveiling in its place her creamy collars, arms and stomach. The cool of the morning air dispensed a slight tinge to her skin, making her blush rosier, more translucent when she stepped out of a ring of loose fabric, unclothed, save for the matching black lace that adorned her breasts and crotch.

Even though her underwear was still present, Stephanie couldn't help but feel naked underneath his rapacious gaze. It was as if his line of sight bestowed a trail of fire across her body, igniting in its path a foreign but potent…she had presented her bare form, countless times to him already, however, the exhibitionistic nature of their particular situation, _was something entirely new. _

"Good." In elongated strides, Joshua came closer, his every step further accelerating the pace of her heart.

"Now, take off your bra."

"What are you trying to accomplish?"

He smiled, tilting his chin back, "Your questions should be reserved for later, Stephanie. Unless, that is, you're eager for me to touch you again."

_He was playing with her dignity. _She pursed her lips together, practically emanating danger as she stared him down. She couldn't decipher, not for the life of her what had come over Joshua – the question was, did she actually want to?

Turning so she lost sight of his triumphant, sickeningly triumphant expression, she begrudgingly slid the shoulder of her brassier off, and watched in dubiousness it slide sluggishly off her shoulder. Then came the other, this time of an even slower motion that tickled her skin – anything to postpone the actual removal of her undergarment. Though, even as carnal as Stephanie could make a simple slide of finger, she eventually met no choice, other than to unclasp her bra, allowing its lacy cups to drop flaccidly to the ground.

She closed her eyes, her breathing frequenting as Joshua explored her upper body with his heated gaze. He hadn't even touched her, and yet, she could already feel her nipples audaciously hardening, her mounds growing tender, as if aching for his caresses, for his tongue to lap them, over _and over until she dropped. Dropped on her knees for him to fuck her, to show her a Garden of Eden that would embrace her peril. _

The heels of his dress shoes came closer to her, prompting Stephanie to hold her breath, hoping that she would retain her composure even when he'd provoke her. Her anticipations were proven correct, particularly when she felt his thumb glide across the nape of her neck, down her collar, to her left breast. He cupped her mound, ever so lightly to tease his palm over her nipple, providing it just enough stimulation to harden it further. Her breath became caught in her throat, but she dared not to show the effect he had on her. Not when he was _obviously_ stringing her like his puppet.

"Hmm." He mumbled something inaudible. She half opened an eye, hoping to steal a peek at his expression at the moment. But instead, she was awarded, _or punished _with a pinch on her nipple, his fingers just hard enough to tremble her knees. She wobbled in her stance, her lips indignant, her body hollow as Joshua extended his large hand towards her waist, and in an ephemeral, blasted chuckle held her firmly against his body.

"Good girl." He pressed a brief kiss to her forehead before stepping back.

"Now, take of your panties."

She no longer fought against him – not because she didn't want to, but rather to reduce the tension, the torturous dishonor towards her persecuted. She could feel his eyes widening dramatically as she slid off her lacy thong, as if aghast on just exactly how submissive she at once became. Stephanie couldn't help but feel slightly mournful, for if she had reacted out of her usual order in the first place, perhaps their situation would be entirely in reverse, with her perpetrating order instead of receiving its wrath.

Hooking her toes, she stepped away from her discarded undergarments and looked questioningly at him, soliciting wordlessly what she should do next. Truth be told, the princess felt like laughing at Joshua. His expression was utterly priceless – a melange between unsullied awe, ecstasy and fear, the last of the three most mystical. If she had with her a brush and canvas, she would have definitely created a portrait out of him, perhaps even going as far to distribute her work through the entire castle. That is, before he would _punish her _for her mischiefs.

However, it was clearer than daylight that he was combating his own desires, as she was sure he wanted her, wanted to terminate the space that separated their bodies and kiss her into oblivion. _Then, what was holding him back?_

Luckily for her, her thoughts were answered by the heavenly spirits. For, in the next second, he ripped his gaze away from her and stumbled, in dazed acquiescence towards a nearby dresser. She arched her brow as he, from the top most drawer retrieved a crimson ribbon, its shade nostalgic of her gown, or perhaps the shade of her hair underneath the sun at its zenith. He toyed with the fabric – silk, upon vigilant observation - for a fleeting moment, before raising his head and smiling, his eyes scintillating with roguish valor.

"Turn around."

Rolling her eyes, she positioned her back to him, her senses tingling, faintly with excitement as Joshua approached her. She didn't hear him, not this time, no. But she had felt him, felt his surge of body heat as he pressed himself against her naked back, felt the hard muscles of his arm slither across her shoulders as he fastened the wide ribbon over her cheeks, her eyelids, until her vision endured no more.

"Good."

He sounded far away. She wasn't sure if she liked that, especially when everything in her world became obscured with darkness. That was one of the many fascinations in life – when one of our senses dull, the others are heightened, in a punctiliously balanced manner that ensures harmony, or, in Princess Stephanie's case, balance.

…

What ensued from Joshua's commitment in his clause was, at this point in time, a mouth-wateringly naked Stephanie, with grim features and zero visual perceptibility. He gulped. His fingers had been tingling ever since she had tossed away her bra, her plump nipples gravitating them towards her, as he yearned to touch her, to do with her indescribable things that, once publicized would instantly relieve his title as crown prince. However, for the sake of Prince Wilfred's words, Joshua fought his urge, his urge to _violate her _with whitened knuckles and beaten breath.

…

She felt a sudden warmness envelop her hand, one that gently guided her forward until her legs encountered the softness of his bedsheets. _Oh god, this couldn't be really happening…_

"Climb on." he said, still not willing to touch her.

She obeyed, her fingers carefully feeling her path across as she elevated herself off the ground and positioned herself upon his blankets. Aside from the blatant bareness of her body, Stephanie was highly conscience of her arousal, the dampness of her sex that had precipitated from his unreasonable demands. There was no way in hell that she was going to admit, that even though he had desisted caressing her, her core was already clenching itself in ecstasy, throbbing every so painfully for his protruding entrance.

"Good, now spread your legs apart."

_What? _"No, that's not going to happen." She said, unable to navigate the coordinates of his voice.

"I don't think you're in any position to defy me, especially when you're so powerless like this." Came his airy voice once more. "Don't make this harder than it already is."

The force in which she gritted her teeth together would have severely damaged her gums, had Joshua not intercepted her exasperating gesture with a kiss. Gently did he trace his tongue across her lips, his breath washing over her without viable mercy, the simple dulcet sensation melting her defiance. He tasted like grape juice, mixed with a tinge of pine and mint, the scent so addicting, so warm against her mouth, that she didn't even noticed when he separated her ankles, wide enough to accommodate his waist in between…

"Hm."

He drew back, and she pouted in disappointment. However, the endearing grimace about her lips soon augmented into an O of astonishment when Joshua hauled her leg into the air, high enough that she landed on her back upon his bed, her hair spilling behind her into a blaniloquent hurricane of ochre. She had questioned him, but he readily ignored her as he tightened the _ropes_ around her left ankle, the slightly rough and rugged feeling huffing her chest. Moments later, both her legs were semi-adorned in air, revealing her sex in its complete, wet view as she heavily inhaled.

"Put your hands over your head."

With another length of rope, her hands were tied upon his metal bed frame, the soft clinging noises weakening as her body stretched upwards, the small of her back no longer encountering the sheets beneath her. It was an odd contraption, for it didn't bestow pain, but allowed the princess to concentrate all her senses down between her thighs. She had long deducted that his room was excessively warm for this very purpose; however, even despite the sheen of sweat upon her forehead, she couldn't help but feel slightly chilly. In fact, every cell in her body tingled, save for her pulsating sex, already dripping with anticipation.

Stephanie was on the verge of accommodating to her new position, when a clink of a belt buckle being undone brought her back to reality. _Oh. _She couldn't see where he was, but she was positively sure that his clothes, just like hers were forsaken somewhere unseen, forgotten. The erratic discords of her heart drowned the heat on her cheeks, the duality of her arousal distracting her from her husband's approaching form. She had absolutely no idea, exactly how _perky_ she appeared suspended in that manner, how much she nakedness made his masculinity throb and enlarge to the point of brimming pain.

Now, he would finally acquire, after all these tormentingly dreary adjustments, exactly what he wanted from her.

She expected, no, _she wanted _him to start fucking her at once, her wishes synchronized with that of Prince Joshua's very own desires. With a feather light touch, he drew, what felt like his knuckles across her inner thigh. She shuddered, trying to shift her leg away from him; and unsurprisingly, her attempt was futile, for the ropes that poised her allowed no escape.

Joshua chuckled under his breath. That was when she realized that his face was in alarming proximity to her core. _Oh god, please-_

Without a second's worth of consideration, he inserted his tongue inside her, his lips cupping her soaking sex as she screamed out, finally voicing her build up in such an extreme capriccio that it shuddered the floorboards. She was glad she couldn't see – the dishonor of witnessing her husband lick relentlessly, unyieldingly inside her was far too much for her heart to bear. She would have cried in shame, but now, her moans were of a completely different genre as he flicked his tongue against her tissues, his saliva mingling with her juices, the dichotomy of liquids facilitating his intrusion. He felt smooth, so incredibly, tauntingly smooth. She trembled. She couldn't help it as her core gripped against his mouth, the sounds of him defilements filtered by her groans, her-

"Joshua!" she screamed, arching herself closer to him. Complying with her demand, he gripped the back of her thighs, elevating her further into the air as he ate at her core. Deciding just his tongue wasn't enough for her, he started to employ his teeth, grazing experimentally inside her, gliding them lightly across the folds of her opening. Through the corner of his eye, he could see that her fingers, previously idle now clutched tightly his pillows, emerging from her limbs a lissome white flower, alike snow, alike the colors of heaven. As his movement accelerated, so did her moans, her breathless heaving making her pale, erect mounds bounce. _In the name of Holy Nobel Michael, she tasted absolutely glorious, her scent so invigorating that all he wanted to do was desecrate her right there, right then._

_ But alas, Prince Wilfred's warning resurfaced inside his head, directing him not to indulge inside her until she was close to release._

"Oh god, J-joshua!"

Furrowing his brows in frustration, he drew back, only to crush his mouth on her once more, his nails digging sharply into her flesh as he suckled, his tongue washing over every last surface of her inner walls. Her heated redolence was everywhere, swishing his senses in a ceaseless blend of tantalizing arousal, causing him to extend further into her, at once locating her g-spot. His majestic performance became more cogent by the second, winning from her one violent catharsis after another, until she was obstinately ridden of breath.

He sex had started to vibrate, signalling her approaching release. Truth be told, he felt extremely devious, borderline diabolic for retrieve his mouth from her, just when she was about to come. It couldn't be helped, for this momentary deprivation would contribute to a greater clause.

"Joshua?" she was aghast, but dared not say more, for she feared that she would disband the last remaining fragments of her honor.

"Hmm?"

She didn't have the time to even think of a response when he roughly penetrated her, posing himself so that he knelt between her legs, her ankles to his side. He hadn't realize this before, but this elegant contraption of his allowed an exclusive view of her every reaction – including the vehement quakes of her arms against their constraints, her nipples, hardened and lusciously inviting his lips…

He started to move, the skin of his member coarsely rubbing against her walls, the friction a strange release to his accumulating frustration. Her breathless pants affecting his rhythm, Joshua proceeded to ram derangedly into her, slamming the tip of his cock against the very edge of her womb, seizing her clutching core beneath his animalistic tempo. He growled as their skins slapped, his hips against her thighs, the sound stark, but muffled by her dripping arousal, drenching his skin as its remnants glided down his abdomen.

"Joshua…" she chanted, her voice irrevocably, irretrievably weak, her missive intermittently disrupted by his hammerings…

She could feel, not only her insides being voraciously fucked beyond words, but his large, protuberant member ranging her stomach. The muscles there periodically upheaved, as if he wasn't just piercing her sex, but also her cervix, his every plunge puncturing deeper and deeper into her, exploring the depths that what made her a woman. No more could she sense her legs, or the ropes that stung the skin at her ankles and wrists – in fact, every last cell in her body had lapsed into a comatose state, save for the clusters that received his wild infiltrations. Repeatedly did he ravenously determine her as his princess, his heavy breathing every indication of his dominance while she lay lifeless, her heart beating as if a humming bird's wings inside her chest.

Time had been lost. The seconds of the grand clock in their room no longer ticked as he rammed into her. It could have been minutes, or centuries. She no longer had any grasp upon reality. Her only feeling, was control slowly and fugaciously slipping through her lulled fingertips, the strength of her body fading, fading with his passionate slams.

She didn't want to fight, nor did she possess the energy to. Instead, she laid obediently there, her whimpers evanescent, her limbs immobile as she permitted him to have his way with her, allowing the immense waves of pleasure to devour her, drive her towards the edge of insanity. She couldn't think. She couldn't protest. All she could do was focus on the sole sensation of his member charioting her sex, piloting her finale-

In a riveting groan, he released his hot seed, burying her end in its humid, _sultry _texture that burned inside her, at once leasing her own conclusion as well. Her back pushed forward, tears escaping her amber eyes. She cried in joy, feeling the rapid convulsions of her stomach wrap itself around his masculinity as it erupted his cum, her quivers consuming its every last tantalizing drop. It wasn't until then did Joshua reach out to kiss her, to fondle her chest like his typical procedure…

Her moans resumed, but this time softer, less extreme as she felt his lips circle her left peak, while her left was massaged, fraught slowly by his fingers. Her head tilted back, ignoring with might the incessant throb between her legs, desperately wanting more, as if that desirous ravishing wasn't enough – but she knew that it wasn't, not for her, not for him. For, with his continuous derides of her chest, the aberrant foraging of his teeth on her nipples, his member had once more started to harden, signifying another delirious exchange between the two licentious lovers. Not only did she fear it, but a part, a very prominent part ached for him to make love to her once more, in the same position, same manner. Though, on her part, amidst the trail of kisses he now planted down her stomach, the sensitive skin at her inner arms, and at last, on her lips, she wished for no mercy. She didn't want him to hold back, not even the slightest.

If this was the life designated for the Dres Vaninan Crown Princess, then perhaps she would get used to it.

His erection grew as he exhausted her with his lips, still prevalent with her dripping scent as their tongues entangled, beseeching one and not caring the slightest for order or propriety. Her heart banged, not only of excitement, but also of the love, the adoration she had for this man before her. Little did she know, the very thoughts that ran through her head mirrored within his, as he too, pledged his devotion to her, a message that he knew she would receive.

At last drawing back, Prince Joshua tenderly shifted an orange tendril, one pasted on her cheek behind her ear.

"I love you." He whispered.

"I know," she grinned cheekily. "You have a very persuasive way of showing it."

That wasn't…quite the reaction he was looking for. But that was the magic of his marriage, the magic of her – she would never cease to surprise him, to illuminate his shadowy world with her vivacious fire.

"You know…" he pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose, "The hour isn't over."

She turned away from him, earning his amused chucked with her copiously reddened cheeks.

"You can either say yes, or yes. Silence will also be taken as a yes."

"What kind of logic is that – mmph!" she words were nullified with another kiss, just like…_always. _

The angels in the skies grimaced their envy, for even they, in their immortal beatific of heaven have not witnessed a love so strong, or two so impeccably made for each other, in every imaginable way.

Though, their insatiable lust was of a separate subject matter.

Drawing back, Joshua gave her long, meaningful look before adjusting his hips upwards, sliding himself inside her sex, the smooth lubricants of her inner walls ever present.

His prayers, his efforts, both were granted three days later, on the night before the beginning of a new solar cycle. It was just another plebeian day – the skies were grey, but significantly less dreary. The snow persisted, but was softer, and only barely a flurry as they twirled graciously within the airs, before adding to the Dres Vanian landscape a thin sheen of winter luster. All was well, and all was quiescent.

All, except for the Lieben royal house.

For it was that very morning, that Prince Joshua and Princess Stephanie welcomed a new soul into their family.

**Chapter 20**

What is love?

That's the million dollar question, isn't it? For centuries now, prolific writers, poets and artists have been striving to interpret the concept of love, and have, by their individual artistries presented us with immense variety. According to Shakespeare, love parallels Polaris, or a bright beacon beside the roaring oceans – it remains calm and steadfast, a perpetual guidance towards those hearts lost, those alone in perturbing darkness. To love, is to save. Or, according to Keats, love epitomizes _passion. _To love is to crystalize devotion and desire into but three short days, fluttered by the ethereal wings of a butterfly. They dance, intertwine, sharing a love that's selfish, faithful and fanatical. However, it is precisely this fleeting nature of love that renders it so breathlessly beautiful – that every moment is ephemeral and fragile. Within the blink of an eye, love may dissipate, or transform into something entirely different. With contrast, we learn to cherish, to treasure, to hold on to what truly matters. Befitting his time, Keats' prose is romantic in notion, imaginative in words and cadenced to the heart.

Artists, such as Monet portrays love as faint, impressionistic but enduring. It's not the extravagant moments, the opulent encomiums of consecration that mark love. No. It's the little moments, the small movements – the twinkle of starlight, or the water rings when a rock is dropped into a peaceful pond. Love, is not some fantastical, abstract concept to be implored, but something very much real, something that lingers within every corner of reality. It's not the genius who creates love, but it is he who truly sees it.

I, on the other hand, neither have the verbal proficiency of a reverenced author, nor the artistic talents of competently wielding a paint brush. However, seeing as the title of this piece solicits love, I shall too, offer my humble opinion on the subject. As our journey meets its end, I hope that the love that endures within this piece persists, transcends these pages and into every one of your hearts, dear readers. For although our story ends, the lives of our main characters have only embraced their beginning, and I hope that you'll be there to attest their happiness.

Love. Love is undeniable. It's like gravity, something invisible but prominent. It could be a simple brush of a shoulder, a simple intersection of gaze. It begins unintentionally – you don't know, if in the next moment that you'll see him again. There's that small stirring. A beating of angelic wings, a flash of divine light. You breathe. You inhale. You feel slightly light headed, slightly out of control. That's your first sign. Your heart starts to beat, not for the sake of survival, but striving to ascertain, behind the clouds of ambiguity where your affections truly lie. You feel a slight headache. You're confused. You don't seem to know where your feelings lie, and you don't care. There's magic. It's that wondrous moment, where you no longer care of means or ends, but only the existence of that one particular person. Fire. Fire that tingles your skin every time you speak to him, fire that ignites your nerves when he brushes your cheek. You start to question yourself, for you're no longer conscience, no longer rational. The center of your world shifts, not completely to him, but to somewhere in between, upon the bridge that connects your two hearts. Slowly, he becomes your balance, the thing that stabilizes you in this cruel, turbulent universe. Slowly, you feel your world getting slightly, just slightly bigger – you start to see new things, or old things in a new light.

When love is real, there's no denying it, because. That feeling, that feeling of brilliance that permeates everything within your vision, that's love.

It's what makes you feel truly alive.

It's the last day. The last day of this blessed year.

Our prince, our endearing Prince Joshua simply couldn't describe his happiness.

For his entire life, he had remained ignorant to the wonders of the world. He had childishly thought, that Dres Van Manor, that the capital of his kingdom were the boundaries of the universe as he knew it. There had been nothing beyond the grey skylines that he could truly call his own, nothing beyond the greenery of his gardens that he wished to explore. Although life was ceaseless, hope was limited.

That is, until she had come into his life. At first, he had despised her insolence, her smart, incredibly disobedient mouth. Her endowments in speech had abraded him, her nationalism as the Nerwan princess had irritated him to no ends – how many times had he wished to banish her out of the kingdom during those first few days.

That's right. Before their wedding ceremony, she was just another girl, someone he could use to determine a greater cause. He didn't quite care of her feelings, nor her worries – he would get what he wanted from her, just like the noble ladies he would approach for means. He had never envisioned, that he would lose himself in her beauty. It really made him think, that perhaps, just perhaps, the world wasn't as bleak as he had previously painted it to be.

And now, they were exactly where he wanted them to be. She was his home, the love that he had never known to exist, the light that disrupted his life with such glory that she nearly blinded him.

Now, he had a reason to get out of bed every morning, because it meant that he would see her at his side, with her vibrant ochre hair and radiant amber eyes, smiling up at him. He would feel that surge of emotion inside his heart as he turns over, to press a soft cheek on her lips. She would kiss him back, and envelop him with her lissome arms, with her honey redolence that spilled over his senses. He would be happy, happy with his princess.

It was with this hope, this remarkable state of mind that Joshua welcomed the last day of December. For the first time in his life, he couldn't wait for New Years. Some say, that the greater your dreams, the smaller the quandaries within reality become. They couldn't be more correct in the matter.

"Your Highness. It's time to depart for the capital."

Oh, that was correct. In celebration of his princess' pregnancy, the entire royal family, including Joshua's parents were scheduled to arrive at the central plaza, to greet their citizens with wishes of a happy new year. It was a tradition, that every year, the royal family would unveil the start of a new chapter, of a new, spirited year of life. To everyone else, it would be a festival of lights, of another year gone and passed, a fresh beginning; but to Prince Joshua, it would be a testimony of their love, an opportunity to showcase the perfection that befell him just a month ago.

Nerwan. Ah, the Nerwan dilemma. It might be too soon to tell anything specific, but with a new heir to the Dres Vaninan throne in the brewing, the unrests have been, as they were during their wedding, temporarily muted. Perhaps it was wishful thinking, but Prince Joshua truly believed that this time, they had conquered their discontent – after all, how could one possibly protest against a child, whose future would inexplicable tie together the fates of their kingdoms? It was a phenomenon distinguished, not despised. Furthermore, if one takes into the account, the fact that Princess Stephanie is the sole heir to Nerwan's throne, then even the most logically challenged would deem able to deduct the significance of her child.

The reception of her pregnancy is another great story. It was just another typical morning, while flurries fell and fires burned. Prince Joshua was seated at his breakfast table, his vacant expression imploring the scenery outside his window when she had burst through the door, tears streaming down her large amber eyes. At first, he had been stunned, for he had never before seen her cry, not during their entire time together at Dres Van Manor.

Apprehensively did he rush over to embrace her, his fears augmented when she held her distance with a firm palm on his chest. Only then did he realize just how severe his situation was.

"Stephanie," he cupped her cheeks, desperately soliciting her scattering gaze, "What's the matter?"

"I…" she couldn't formulate words, not cohesive ones anyway. To witness such a usually composed royal lose her mind, and to such dramatic extents was, in a sense, refreshing, if one were to implore the devious. Fortunately, our amethyst-haired prince was one who'd rather not indulge in those poisonous waters.

"What is it?" he asked once more. Then, without thinking, he blurted the first thought that appeared in his mind.

"Did Jan do something to you?" he said, his voice deadpan.

That rather unexpected retort of his had immediately shattered her anxiety. With a dubious raise of her brow, she said, "No. That's not the point. Furthermore, how is that even possible?"

_Tsk. _He drew back, his glare menacing. "Why are you in denial?"

She was aghast. "I'm not in denial- you know what. This is pointless. Maybe I'll go talk to tell Jan that I'm pregnant or something. At least he'll actually have a positive reaction as opposed to some out-of-nowhere accusation."

With a haughty twirl of her head, Stephanie was just about to vanish into the corridors when Joshua's petrified hand descended upon her wrist. She had looked back at him with dubious features, her lips popping open, as if to mouth something to him – but he had heard nothing, nor felt the warmth of her skin underneath his fingertips. Truth be told, at that moment, all that Prince Joshua could process, well, maybe that's overestimating his mental amplitudes.

_He...was going to be a father…_

The impact of the revelation slammed against him, akin to the forces of a hurricane as he pulled her tightly inside his arms. He breathed, breathed against her, his breath hot against her forehead as she squirmed, evidently uncomfortable beneath his hold, and yet, he couldn't let go. Every last cell in his body screamed for him to hold on, to hold on to the treasure that had granted him the greatest happiness conceivable. He opened his mouth, but no words came out – studies show, that when people receive news of incredible gratitude or trauma, they were temporarily ridden the ability to speak. This lapse may endure for days, for weeks, or perhaps for the rest of their lives, depending on the extent of their shock. Fortunately, I shall disclose that Prince Joshua's episode lasted for a mere eight, but very much _absurdly torturous_, hours.

However, at that very moment, when he had his princess safely pinned on his chest, he could assemble no words, not for the very life of him.

"Joshua!" she squeaked, "Let go! You're choking me!"

_Oh. _Releasing her at once, Joshua allowed her not the slightest moment of refuge as he crushed his lips to hers, relishing in the sweet sensation of their joined breaths. Abruptly did he insert his tongue into her mouth, and forcefully did he elevate her off her feet, the untamed, primordial passion of his ecstasy surprising even himself. Her hair had spilled gracefully over her shoulder as he slammed her body on the dining table, sending several arrangements of flowers flying haphazardly through the air.

The morning was still fresh, and Jan would be advising the chef for upcoming meals, which, very conveniently left the entire hall to themselves. The maids would be kept busy, cleaning and replenishing the manor, welcoming the start of a new season. Nobody would intrude, at least not for a long into the forsaken dining hall…

Without the slightest tinge of hesitation, Joshua brutally ripped her gown off her body, his mouth hungrily devouring her every last inch of exposed skin. The atmosphere intensified quickly as his tongue drew sensuous circles upon her body, transforming her remonstrations into breathless, heavy moans.

Down came the rest of her undergarments, along with his clothes, which he discarded with uncanny rapidity across a lonesome chair. With the utmost urgency, he had begun caressing her curves, her breasts, her remarkably dampened core until she shook underneath his licentious fondles. _She had been so incredibly wet, that he couldn't help but feel slightly victorious inside – for it was a sure indication that she desired him, just as much as he desired her. _

A wild, astonished scream escaped her luscious lips as he ruined her with one potent thrust, forcing her sex to clench every last inch of his massive length. His skin slapped ruthlessly against the interior of her thighs, prompting Joshua to clench his teeth to just exactly how tight she had become. Although the dulcet friction of her insides was divine, _addictive, _even, he would nevertheless need to beguiler her sex more, until she would be able to accommodate with ease his penetrations. It could potentially take months, years, even, but it was a daunting task that he was more than willing to undergo.

He didn't care of courteousness, not in the slightest as he animalistically plummeted into her, the force of his every movement pulsating the muscles at her stomach. Her fingers whitened around his tablecloths, her amber eyes unfocused and once again replete with tears. Just like their previous occupants, Stephanie cried tears of joy, of unalloyed exhalation by the strenuous feeling of his ravishing, his rhythm that only increased in frequency as time went on. She had never known such pleasure. She could only cry out as her sex began to throb, to quiver in that magnificent build-up that would soon perpetrate her release; and, as if mystically on cue, Joshua's poundings became even more powerful, the continuous push and pull of her insides sending her over the edge.

They had come together, with him collapsing on her naked body, equally fatigued and sore. She had looked adoringly up at him, planted one brief kiss on his lips, and whispered those words of endearment that would forever melt his heart. However, that had also, been the exact moment that Prince Joshua discovered in awe his inability to speak. So instead of murmuring his loving response, he had sealed her with another kiss, one that swiftly escalated into a frenzied make-out session.

In between their swirling tongues, Joshua had heard a pair of undeniably familiar footsteps progress down the hall. So, in a moment of maddened genius, he hauled her over his shoulder and hid their bodies inside a nearby storage unit, one that he knew for a certain fact was never visited. Through the darkness of it all, he had creaked upon a faint opening, allowing him just enough illumination to observe Jan's flabbergasted expression when he intruded upon their discarded garments. His features had been so ridiculous that Joshua couldn't help but chuckle to himself – without voice, that is.

"Joshua?" she asked, hugging her chest. "Uh, I don't think it's a good idea to be in here, especially when we're completely unclothed."

_Nonsense. _Adamant on proving her wrong, Prince Joshua gave her one brief inclination of an eyebrow before proceeding to a cupboard. To his surprise, he had discovered in awe an arrangement of various ribbons, all thickly woven in the finest quality. That was when another roguish plan made its way through his conscience.

With mesmerising eyes and an enthralling smile, Prince Joshua returned to her side, ribbon hidden behind his back. He proceeded to kiss her, and directly when she encircled her arms around his neck did he tie her wrists together, securing them firmly in place and allowing her no escape. Her mouth had halted its tempo. Seizing her vulnerability, he divulged his tongue into her, and whilst washing every corner of her mouth, he had separated her legs and eased her dripping sex onto his member, filling her completely with the spellbinding sensation of his hardened masculinity. However, he had not immediately started to move, but instead progressed to connection her ankles in the same manner he did her hands, until finally, she clung onto him without room for refuge.

He didn't separate their kiss as he began to move, fouling her against the walls until his cum trickled from her core, already filled to the brim with the testimonies of their love. By that point in time, she had been drained beyond measure, and could no, under any circumstances undergo another reptilian episode – however, much to her misfortune, Joshua was not even closely satisfied with his gorgeous princess. Given her particular contraption, she was deemed unable to escape, unless Joshua would assist her in the manner, which, expectedly, he declined with another blood-searing kiss.

From that point on, she had forgotten what happened between the two. All she managed to recollect, however, was the frequent quivering of her sex as he punctured her womb, the powerlessness in which she clung on to his body, and the feeling of his seed saunter her, repeatedly until she passed out. When she had awoken, she was in her bed, her body rinsed completely clean, save for the audacious hickeys that covered the majority of her skin. She had blushed furiously to the sighting; however, all her previous doubts of her pregnancy had been annulled, for if she hadn't been impregnated three days earlier, she definitely was after their deranged exchanges that morning.

Joshua, on the other hand, could not stop replaying that particular scene inside his head, even as he, his parents and his princess entered the royal limo heading towards the capital. His thoughts had been so pre-occupied, that he managed to drown out the animated discussions between Stephanie and his mother.

It wasn't until his father shook him by the shoulder did he finally recover from his…_fantasy. _

"Joshua!" his mother scoffed, pouting in a manner that really didn't corroborate with her age. "Are you alright, dear? We were terribly worried! We thought you were having a stroke of some sort-"

"Yeah. I'm fine." He replied, hoping his mother wouldn't torture him with another rampage of rapid-fire speech. Both his father and Stephanie arched their brows questioningly at him, but decided against commenting. Sighing to herself, Her Majesty captured Her Highness in another colloquy, this time of flower choice, something that Joshua neither had the mental capacity nor interest to eavesdrop.

It was then when Joshua adverted his gaze outside his car window, his expression serene.

…

New Year's Eve in the capital was a magical time – the midnight skylines were embellished with grandiloquent neon lights, each intermittently illuminating the darkness with rainbow shades of color that dulled the stars in comparison. People, thousands, millions of people hustled down the streets, all clad in their warmest clothing to welcome the change of another solar cycle. Children were laughing, and adults were beaming. Street vendors, who typically retired for the night once again retrieved their business, and economized the streets with their scrumptious aromas. The city once asleep had awoken, as if a ferocious lion prowling on edge, bustling with undying energy waiting to be relinquished.

However, the most vibrant place of all would inevitably be the central plaza, the location where Princess Stephanie had made her holiday greetings to the Dres Vaninan citizens. Although only a mere six days had transpired since then, to Prince Joshua, it felt as if months had escaped through his fingers. Not because of disengagement, no, it was none of that – so many surprises had made their way through his life that he couldn't catch his breath. He couldn't help but smile to the thought, for every remaining day of his life would be graced with the similar excitement.

He was blessed, just like this wonderful year.

Lights glistened within the night, making the shimmering snow come alive underneath their scintillations. Happiness stalked every last one of his citizens, their joy rumbling the earth whilst ignoring their peripheries. What beseeched the rumbling crowds were fireworks, inlaid with ivory and gold as they erupted into the night, their colors envied by the moon in its placid silver glow. None were undisturbed, and all had come alive – a righteous ending for a great love story.

As the royal progression stepped out of their vehicle, the plummeting roars had augmented, and instantly did they find themselves consumed by thundering footsteps and shoving civilians, unanimously eager to greet their rulers. That was his least favorable part of these festivities – the breathlessness, the dramatic entrance and finally, the borderline vindictive lack of personal space. He could barely see his surroundings as he was lost in the sea of people and flashing cameras. He had lost track of her, lost track of his parents, and was on the brim of calling out when he felt a softness through his gloved fingers, a touch that he'd become long accustomed to.

"Joshua!" she hissed, dashing to his side. "This way! Your guards are exiting the limo as we speak."

Her amber eyes shimmered with specs of gold, and her lips were of such a lustrous red…

He shook the idea out of head, obediently allowing her lilt fingers to guide him away from the crowd. A surge of childlike glee swam though his heart – it felt as if they were on some secretive rendezvous of some sort, the very idea of being guided through unknown territory and towards a realm of safety. He definitely liked the feeling.

With hurried steps, they escaped onto the marble platform at the central plaza. Joshua noticed with slight triumph the exhilarated blush on Stephanie's features. He couldn't help but release a chuckle.

"What is it?" she had asked.

"You seem to be enjoying this more than you give yourself credit for."

"I think I know myself better than you do, Prince Joshua." her snarky comeback was nearly drowned by the elated reverberations by the crowd. A child, one bubbling with excitement had clutched the trail of her velvet gown, and was immediately chastised by his parent for his mishap.

"Hm." Without his parents noticing, he leaned forward to press a brief, but irretrievably felicitous kiss to her cheek. But for the sake of publicity, he lingered just long enough to provoke a few hundred whistles from the crowd, and enough for rose penumbras to resurface beneath her complexion.

_He would have an eternity to watch this adorable reaction of hers._

It was five minutes until midnight.

His father raised his hands, in his majesty signalling another wave of roars and waving arms, his brilliant amethyst eyes glistening with pride. His mother stood, effeminately at his side, emanating in her glory the kindness and benevolence of a true queen as her king spoke his wishes. Joshua couldn't fathom, at least not then, that in a couple years' time, he and his princess would step into their shoes, and deliver their own greetings to their beloved Dres Van. But, he knew, that a part of him was no longer intimidated by the idea, not anymore – her arrival had given him strength, widened and brightened his world, created him anew.

_One day, he would be king, and she his queen, with their sons and daughters at their side, facing their audience._

Four minutes.

"You know," she glanced up at him through her lashes. It was miraculous how she managed to do that – to smile impeccably at the audience while speaking to him at the same time.

"I don't get the point of this. I mean, we could just as efficiently broadcast from the manor, instead of coming all the way here."

He laughed, the moment chronicled by another flash of a keen photographer. "The whole point of emotional memories is that, we remember how we felt during certain events rather than the details of the events itself. Despite the unruly appearance of it all, we're closer to the heart of the people."

"Well," a phantom of a smile upcurved her luscious lips. "Whoever said that sounds absolutely brilliant."

_Three minutes. _

"You guys sure are popular. I thought that with your emotional detachment, you wouldn't even be able to muster a smile in front of your citizens."

He blinked, a couple times in succession to her astounding statement. A series of lights had entered his vision, their various shapes glistening amidst the night, as if they possessed mischievous wills of their own. The air was pursued by cheers, all in rapturous anticipation for time to quicken, for the splendid sound of the clock to chime its end, announcing upon the land a new beginning.

"Don't be crude. You've witnessed the popularity of the royal family first hand just several days ago." With a quick survey, he added, "I can attest that the majority of the crowd is here for your sake."

"You're kidding. Oh the pressure, I think I'm going to faint." She carolled, whilst bending down to high-five a small child, whose cheeks dimpled as the Princess smiled at him.

"Are you kidding me, Lieben?" she shot him a dubious glance, "This is easier than I expected, you know, being the cynosure of the country and all that. I don't get how you make such a big deal out of it."

_What? _"You've only seen the glamor, not the mechanisms behind it, and as future queen, you never will."

"That's sexist." She said, posing elegantly for another photo. "Hypocritical, in fact, considering how much you guys preach gender-equality."

"How _we_, preach gender-equality." With enough snarl injected into the word, Joshua yanked her arm towards him, proving an exclusive view of their intimacy for several bordering journalists. He could swear that at least two of them had teared up upon his gesture, while one contentedly gave him a thumbs-up. _Wow._

"Right. About that."

_Two minutes. _

"What?" he asked.

"I'm going to need some time off from our usual…endeavors." She said, adverting her eyes away from him. "You know, with the whole pregnancy thing."

"That's implausible."

"Are you kidding me?" he pressed a finger to his lips, warning with fierce disgruntlement of how audible her voice had become.

"We don't have to discuss this until you're five months pregnant."

"That's…ugh, nevermind. Do what you wish." she attempted to detangle her fingers from his, but to no avail, for he had her locked, both literally and metaphorically.

He smirked, his hold on her tightening. "Don't regret saying that. Oh, and you're required to kiss me at midnight, as part of public service."

She rolled dramatically her orbs of molten fire. "Yeah, keep dreaming. Like that's going to happen."

"It will happen, unless you want to generate some serious controversy that'll directly detriment the Nerwan Clause, then I suggest you obey without question."

_One minute. _

The bellowing crowd usurped towards them, akin to the waves of a tsunami, only to be pushed back by a strict row of bodyguards. Even despite their efforts, several arms, arms of children in particular were able to extend beyond the wall they've constructed, deemed able to reach the royal family members. It led Joshua to think, that perhaps the inadequacies of his guards were prompted by more of personal preference, an emollient of heart.

"Right, I'm not going to do that, sorry to disappoint you." She said, stretching her arm down the platform to shake the hands of a swooning teenager, one wielded the appearance of merely thirteen, though, her high school uniform proved otherwise.

"Stephanie. It's part of being crown princess."

"Hm." Reluctantly did she look up at him, and after what appeared to be a couple moments of deep contemplation gravely nodded her head.

"Fine. Don't overdo it."

_30 seconds. _

"I need to say something, and your only choice is to listen." He said, gently cupping her cheek as he eyed the clock tower, carefully calculating the time he would require to vocalize his resolution.

"Right," she laughed, "Like I haven't heard that one before."

"Listen" he hissed. Then, just on cue, the crowd commenced their ten second countdown, temporarily muting their infatuation with the royal family. Seizing this opportunity, Joshua bore his eyes into hers, molten amethyst to fire-amber.

"Stephanie." He breathed, his tenor hypnotic.

"This year, will be ours. So I promise, in the name of Dres Van's Crown Prince, that I will make your life, from this point on, the greatest fairy-tale you've ever known."

"I thought fairy-tales were only for bed-time stor-"

She didn't finished, for exactly, when the large dials of the central clock-tower had announced its apex, Joshua had pressed his lips to hers, his sweet kiss submerging her in an ocean of adoration, one that obscured the booming cheers of their audience. With tender arms did he embrace her, his fingers intertwining affectionately in her bright orange tendrils, locking her at the small of her back.

She couldn't see, nor hear, the thousands of people that applauded them, for her world, in that enchantingly magical moment, encompassed her prince, and him only.

"Then," he murmured between kisses.

"Perhaps I shall never wake you up."

She threw her arms around his shoulders, just as the first streak of fireworks exploded, a waterfall of colors through the sky, dismantling what _previously had been…_

_ …with what is yet to come. _

_~The End~_


End file.
